Medjai: The Next Generation
by CJisArdethsgal
Summary: Ardeth Bay's grandson, Ali Bay, must defend both his love and the modern Medjai and team up with his grandfather in an attempt to fight off time-traveling bad guys.
1. Default Chapter

Medjai: The Next Generation Disclaimer: I own all characters except that of Ardeth Bay. This story is for entertainment purposes only-no money is being made here. No infringement intended.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
He had been changing during the past few months. They were subtle changes- his ebony hair was longer, not nearly what one would call conservative, and upon his face he'd grown a mustache and goatee. And his personality had shifted slightly. He was quieter, more guarded than usual. Most people probably wouldn't notice the changes in him, but Rose did. After all, they'd been good friends for the past two years.  
  
She contemplated those thoughts as they strolled down the sidewalk in the dark. The night air was damp with a light rain, and she watched as Ali pulled his jacket tighter about him. She realized he was not a man who enjoyed cold, damp weather. Even though they were living in sunny southern California, during the winters, there were times when the nights could chill one to the bone. Tonight was one of those nights.  
  
"Cold?" Rose inquired of her escort.  
  
"Of course. I dislike winter," he replied with his deep, accented voice.  
  
"But Ali," she taunted, "we are in southern California. You can't exactly call this winter."  
  
"It is winter enough for me," he stated with a light tone.  
  
Those light tones had come less often during the past few months. Rose wondered why Ali had been changing. It wasn't like there had been any drastic transformations in his life that she was aware of. His life had been exactly the same as it had been for the past two years. He walked to his computer programmer office job with Rose each day, always wearing a conservative suit and sporting his wire-rimmed glasses, then escorted her back home, only talking of mundane topics such as his day and the weather. Rarely did he astound her with his chatter, but he did often show more humor than of late. That humor always had surprised Rose, for Ali seemed to fit that typical computer programmer role. He had a handsomeness to him, but he was quiet and reserved. There was nothing bold or heroic about him. Even though he was tall and sinewy in definition, Rose could not picture Ali outside his neat, conservative role.  
  
"You big sissy," she laughed.  
  
He threw her a half smile, but she could see his heart was not in it.  
  
"Ali, what's wrong?" she asked him, finally certain that something in his life was not right.  
  
"Nothing," he insisted.  
  
"I know you better than that," she chided. "Tell me."  
  
She knew him, Ali acknowledged, but she only knew a portion of what he truly was. For two years now, they'd worked in the same high-rise office building among the throngs of people in southern California, walking to and from work together each day. They lived in the same apartment complex a half-mile from the office and occasionally shared a weekend dinner or movie. They were friends and nothing more. But Ali had sensed a shift in time and knew that the friendship he cherished so much would eventually be no more.  
  
Ali hesitated in answering her and glanced down at her as they walked. She was a woman of medium height and build who moved with an athleticism that she attempted to hide. Her brunette hair was cut in a stylish chin-length bob and framed a finely structured face, full-pouty lips and tanned skin. What stood out most on her pretty face were her ice-blue eyes. Ali had noticed them immediately when he'd first laid eyes upon her for they were not only intriguing, but also familiar.  
  
Ali halted his long stride and turned to her. She stood beside him in her long dark coat, her eyes curious.  
  
"All right," he began. "What if I told you that I might have to be leaving soon?"  
  
Rose's face pulled into a frown.  
  
"Leaving? Where? For how long?"  
  
Ali recognized the concern upon her face and answered, "Back home. I will be.needed there soon." He chose his words carefully so as not to give too much away.  
  
Rose had always sensed this day would come. Ali was so guarded about his past and where he came from that she had known instinctively that something in his homeland had a strong hold over him. Most people probably thought his standoffish ways were just that of an eccentric computer geek. After all, he kept few friends aside from her. But regardless of whether or not he was eccentric or just untrusting, she always felt safe with him. Not safe in the sense that if a gang of thugs were to attack that he would fend them off in action hero fashion, but safe in the sense that she could trust him.  
  
And trust was not a luxury Rose could afford to take lightly. Her past was dark and unhappy and because of that, she too maintained a reserved, cool façade. To most people she was just the simple travel agent who worked on the first floor of the high rise. If anyone knew, however, what she was hiding from, she was positive it would shock them immensely.  
  
"Back home? To Egypt?" she inquired.  
  
He nodded.  
  
"What could possibly make you return there? I thought you enjoyed life here in California."  
  
"I do," he said. "But I have family and.a duty to fulfill."  
  
Rose chuckled and took his arm. They began to walk again and she said, "Duty? Ali, you make it sound so serious."  
  
"It is, Rose," he said, halting them again. This time he covered her hand with his as it rested upon his arm. His hand was warm over her cold one and Rose shivered from the feel. It was strange, for she'd never felt anything from his plutonic touch before.  
  
"It has to be serious to take me away from here.away from you," he added.  
  
Rose felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. His words were both delightful and foreboding at the same time. He was a sweet, tender man, and she cherished his friendship like none other. But the tone to his words caused her to feel that she would never see him again once he returned to his homeland.  
  
"You are, after all," Ali continued, "my best friend."  
  
Overcome with emotion, Rose fell into his arms. For the past five years, she had been hiding, suspect of everyone around her. Then she met Ali by simple accident, bumping into him in the lobby of their office building, and she had felt relief that finally she could trust another person and not have to be suspicious or anxious.  
  
Now, he was leaving her.  
  
She didn't want to cry, but the tears came of their own volition. Ali held her tightly to him and if Rose hadn't been so upset, she might have realized this was the first time they had embraced. After all, their relationship had never held any physical affection aside from her taking his arm or hand on occasion. They had simply been friends, nothing more. Being in his arms now though, somehow felt right and Rose wondered why it had taken her until this point to discover that.  
  
It had taken her so long, Rose reminded herself, because of what her father and ex-fiancé had done to her. They'd controlled her, abused her. She'd been nothing but a pawn to them both. Someone for them to parade in front of others and feed their weak egos, making them feel strong. And because of that, she'd withdrawn from society, hidden from her old life and refused to grow close to anyone again. During the past two years, however, she had grown close to Ali but had been unable to see it until now.  
  
Ali held Rose in his arms as she cried. He knew his leaving would hurt her. Though she pretended to be indifferent most times, he realized she had valued their friendship as much as he. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her, for he knew in his heart that she was harboring something horrible deep inside. She was vulnerable despite her outward appearance and if he could avoid what was to come, he surely would, but history and duty would reclaim him soon.  
  
Something lurked in the shadows and Ali's attention quickly turned away from Rose as he looked around. Soon had arrived, he was certain. Releasing Rose, Ali smiled down at her and said, "Do not cry over my departure yet, Rose. I am still here."  
  
"Until when?" she asked.  
  
"I do not know," he fibbed. He knew. The change in the atmosphere around him, the feel of eyes upon his back told him duty had already arrived.  
  
She wiped at the tears on her face and took in a steadying breath.  
  
"All right. I won't cry now. But I just might later. After all, I don't want to lose my escort home. What will I do?"  
  
"Get a car?" he questioned.  
  
She shook her head. "You know I don't have a license."  
  
"Who in California does not have a license?" Ali challenged, thankful for the change in topics as they resumed their walk.  
  
"I don't like driving," she stated, though she knew perfectly well how to drive. Having a license, however, meant another form of documentation existed that could be used to find her. And she did not want to be found.  
  
"In that case, I suppose we'll just have to walk to the movies tomorrow," Ali said, trying to make plans like he would with Rose for any other Saturday afternoon.  
  
"Walking would be wonderful," she said on a laugh, reclaiming his arm and again striding next to him with her smooth athleticism.  
  
Ali forced a smile and again scanned their surroundings. He had made a date for the next day, but when Rose arrived at his apartment, he would be gone.  
  
**  
  
It was subtle, but Ali's ears picked up the faint sound of his front door opening on its hinges regardless. He was in his bedroom, undressing from his suit and tie, and was surprised that they had arrived so quickly. It was not like his people to rush. Especially at night. They were perfect predators at night and usually lay in wait until the right moment. Whoever they had sent must have had a schedule to keep for such a hurried arrival.  
  
Knowing there was nothing to fear, Ali pretended to be unawares and continued to undress. He threw his jacket, tie and glasses on the bed and unbuttoned his white dress shirt. It hung open upon his dark shoulders and as he started to remove it, he turned and caught sight of his image in the dresser mirror. There, upon his chest, were the marks that tied him to his people. Dark, bluish-green tattoos over each breast and above his navel outlined his link to history and soon he would be called upon to carry out his duty.  
  
A face appeared in the mirror behind him and his brown eyes locked onto those of a beautiful woman. He knew the woman well, too well, and without acting shocked or surprised, he drawled confidently, "So, they sent you."  
  
"You were expecting us?" she inquired in their native tongue of the desert. It had been months since Ali had spoken or heard it and he had to carefully replay her words before the language returned to him.  
  
"Yes. I've sensed it for a while," he answered in the same foreign tongue. "But I never expected you."  
  
Yasmeen smiled deviously at him and moved behind him, looping her arms around his waist.  
  
"The Council figured I could lure you back without argument," she purred.  
  
Ali pushed her hands away and turned to face her. Yasmeen was certainly the beauty of his people, and they had once shared a romantic interest when they were young. Her black hair was long, to her waist, and her dark, cat- like eyes could spot weaknesses in people with just one glance. But he was not pleased to see her. They had gone their separate ways a decade before and though they were linked by heritage and culture, he wanted nothing to do with her now.  
  
"You could lure me nowhere," he growled.  
  
Her mouth curved into an evil grin and she reached up to pull his hair from the ponytail he wore. His hair spilled in waves past his collar and no one who had seen him at the office would believe he was the same man. In this state, with his sinewy muscles showing and his hair in its natural style, he looked every inch the dangerous leader he truly was. There was no hint that this man, by day, was the quiet, reserved computer programmer he pretended to be.  
  
"I used to be able to," she insisted.  
  
"Yes, when we were much younger. We are adults now, Yasmeen, much has changed."  
  
Tracing the flowing, ancient symbols upon his chest with her finger, Yasmeen asked, "Has it changed so much that you will refuse to return with me? I have brought escorts just in case you had second thoughts about returning to the tribe."  
  
Grabbing her hand and throwing it to the side, Ali snapped, "That will not be necessary. I know my duty."  
  
Still smiling, despite his rough refusals, Yasmeen sat on the bed, spreading her long white skirt around her as she did. "We were beginning to wonder if you did, Ali. It has been months since we'd heard from you. When you were with us for the funeral, you seemed changed. The Council has been worried ever since."  
  
"Why? Am I not a Bay? Am I not a member of the tribe? And of course I seemed changed, after all, my father had just died."  
  
She frowned then, the mischievous smile disappearing quickly at the mention of their defeated chief.  
  
"You have a valid argument. Your father was a good man. He died before his time. And that is why you must return now," Yasmeen began to explain.  
  
"I was not expecting this to happen so soon," Ali stated. "I thought I would have more time to get my affairs in order."  
  
"The Council would have granted you more time, but we have found some disturbing evidence that your father's death was not merely the work of the renegades we first suspected, but the work of something.much darker."  
  
Further explanation was not necessary, for Ali knew that many mysteries and hidden dangers lurked in the desert his tribe was sworn to protect. When he arrived back in his village, he would be informed of all the latest evidence that the Council had obtained. Until then, he would refocus his energy on the duties ahead and the revenge he would seek for his father's death. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
Something didn't feel right. Rose paced her apartment, having changed out of her dress pants and sweater from work. Though the faded denim and yellow T-shirt she wore was comfortable, she still felt wrong.  
  
Was it the weather? Was it the dampness that hung in the usually warm air?  
  
No, it was Ali. His demeanor and words tonight told her that all was not right. She was certain he'd fibbed to her about knowing when he was to leave California for his homeland in Egypt. Something inside told her Ali was leaving much sooner than she realized.  
  
Grabbing a dark sweatshirt Rose hurried out of her apartment, not even taking the time to lock her door. She ran to Ali's place a mere hundred yards away and took the stairs to the second floor two at a time.  
  
They lived in a typical California apartment complex with landscaped greenery surrounding the two-story high units. She enjoyed where they lived, but deep in her heart longed for something more exotic. After spending the past five years in California with its unremarkable architecture and fast-paced, meaningless lifestyle, she could certainly stand for a change. And if her best friend was truly leaving her stranded in this place, perhaps she would mend her heart by finding another state, maybe even another country, in which to reside.  
  
Reaching Ali's door, Rose quickly knocked and waited for him to answer. When he pulled the door open to his apartment, Rose nearly gasped. His black hair was down and fell past his shirt collar in a sexy wave. She had not seen his hair down in such a state since he'd begun growing it out and as she stared at his face that held a hard look, his fingers nimbly worked on the buttons of his shirt. Before Ali could redo all the buttons, Rose caught sight of his smooth, olive skin and what she thought might have been defined muscles that he'd hidden well from her for the past two years. But she couldn't be certain, for he finished with his shirt before her eyes could completely focus.  
  
"Rose," he said with much surprise in his deep voice. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I.uh," she began to explain when suddenly a form appeared in the hallway leading to his bedroom. Rose took her eyes from Ali long enough to focus on the woman with the long white skirt and baby-blue top. She leaned against the wall with a casual guise and smiled at Rose without warmth.  
  
"Ali," the woman called in a low seductive voice that held a hint of an accent. "Lets not keep me waiting."  
  
Ali bit his tongue and turned swiftly to glare at Yasmeen. His look and the power it held to "persuade" others immediately shut her up and she turned and reentered the bedroom.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I had no idea," Rose said, a flush filling her cheeks. "I'd better go."  
  
She turned to leave when Ali called to her, "Rose, wait!"  
  
Throwing a wave to him over her shoulder as she descended the steps, she simply said, "I'll just talk to you later, Ali."  
  
She refused to turn to look at him, for in her eyes were fresh tears. Not only was Ali leaving very soon, but apparently he had very sexy company to accompany him on his trip.  
  
*****  
  
Ali turned abruptly away from the steps when Rose's form disappeared into the dark and slammed the door. Yasmeen was trying her best to create waves for Ali, only now he no longer had to endure her devious ways for he held a position of power far above her.  
  
"Yasmeen!" he called harshly as he stormed down the hallway. "Damn you, woman! What do you think you are doing?"  
  
She threw him an innocent look as she stood in the doorway to his room.  
  
"Me? I am doing nothing," she insisted. "I was merely attempting to hurry you along. We do have a plane to catch."  
  
Ali bit back an oath and moved in front of her, glaring at her with dark, angry eyes.  
  
"Ten years ago, you may have been able to taunt me, but things have changed now. I am chief of our people. You need to learn to obey," Ali declared.  
  
A look of acquiescence traversed her face and she nodded her head.  
  
"Of course, my lord," she said with only mild sarcasm. "I sometimes forget the new role you have inherited." She moved away from him, glanced around the room, then narrowed her gaze on him. "Who was that woman?"  
  
"A friend," Ali answered simply.  
  
When Yasmeen raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him in question, he added, "A very good friend."  
  
"Friends? That is all?"  
  
"That is all," Ali said with a hint of regret.  
  
Rose was very special to him. And because of how special she was, he had not spoiled their relationship by trying to turn it into some sort of romantic affair. Instead, he had maintained his low profile, continuing his work at the computer company, learning as much as he could about the workings of modern technology and computer systems, while his and Rose's friendship grew.  
  
Now, however, it would come to an end. It would not end badly, though, and as Ali grabbed the duffel bag he had packed in his closet, along with his high-powered laptop computer, he said to Yasmeen, "Take these to the car. I will meet you in the parking lot in a few minutes."  
  
"You expect me to carry your bags?" Yasmeen quipped.  
  
"You followed me home, broke into my apartment and provoked me. You are capable," he said with a laughing face and headed out the door. He needed nothing else from his apartment and had an envelope with instructions for the landlord that he would drop in the rental office on his way to the parking lot. All he had to do was fix things with Rose and he would return to his homeland with a clear conscious.  
  
****  
  
How stupid of her to assume that just because Ali never discussed women with her, that he never dated anyone. Rose was not only heartbroken but embarrassed as well over having discovered the beautiful woman in Ali's apartment. What also had her reeling was the look of him so casual and sexy. For a moment, he had appeared like a different person with a dangerous look upon his face and his body lean and athletic. But that was definitely not the Ali she knew. It more than likely had just been her mind playing tricks on her, for the Ali she knew was not dangerous, had never looked so sexy to her and spent too much time behind a computer to attract such a voluptuous woman. There more than likely was a logical explanation to what she had witnessed and if she just waited until their movie date tomorrow, all would be explained.  
  
Rose comforted herself with those thoughts as she returned to her apartment on the first floor. Her front door was wide open and she wondered if in her haste she had not closed it all the way.  
  
Still, it was with much caution that she entered her apartment and began looking around. She was not stupid. She had not survived these past five years by walking blindly into suspicious situations. After all, her father was a powerful man with many friends and resources and she had to be sharp to keep her new identity hidden from him.  
  
Quietly, she moved through the doorway, keeping her eyes peeled for any movement in her apartment. The living room was clear, so was the small kitchen. She slunk into the bedroom and searched each corner, under the bed and in the closet.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Just as she began to think her suspicions were causing her to lose her mind, a wide, unidentifiable figure appeared from out of the bathroom, pointing a handgun with silencer at her face. Rose sucked in a quick breath of shock and focused on the chrome gun in front of her. Then, she tried to identify her attacker, but he was well covered in black from head to toe.  
  
"Leave with me quietly, or I'll have to use this," the man said in a low, menacing voice.  
  
Rose did not recognize the voice, but she was positive this man had been sent by her father. He was no ordinary burglar; the hardware in his hand was evidence of that. No, he was one of the San Giovoni clan and he was here to take her back home.  
  
"You wouldn't use that or my father would pour you a nice little cement grave," Rose said back.  
  
He shrugged his shoulders slightly, acknowledging her words, then swung at the side of her face, rendering her unconscious with a blow from the gun. Rose heard her lips release a small cry before she slumped to the ground in a pit of darkness.  
  
******  
  
Ali's keen hearing picked up the faint cry as he crossed the threshold of Rose's doorway. Her door was wide open, something he'd never seen before, and every light was on in the front rooms. The cry, however, had emanated from the back bedroom, so Ali hurried there, all the while keeping his senses peeled for danger-just in case.  
  
He was glad he had not called out to her and entered with a stealth he had honed as a child, for when he reached Rose's bedroom, he saw a man dressed in dark clothes leaning over Rose's unconscious body. Reacting quickly, Ali grabbed the man from behind, wrangled the gun from his hand and turned it upon his adversary.  
  
The man said nothing as he looked at the gun in Ali's hands, then reached into his coat and began drawing a small backup weapon. With no choice, Ali fired without hesitation and watched as the man fell in a heap next to Rose.  
  
Bending down to first check Rose's health and finding a nasty, bleeding bump upon her head, Ali figured she would fare well with some medical attention. Her attacker, however, was dead and from the look of the guns he was carrying and the outfit he was wearing, it was obvious he was no run- of-the-mill burglar. This man had been outfitted with the best equipment and clothes and Ali was certain this situation was unique.  
  
Suddenly, Rose mumbled something. Turning to her, Ali touched her cheek and asked softly, "What is it, Rose?"  
  
"They found me," she said in a whisper, her eyes still closed. "God, they found me."  
  
There was desperation in her tone and though Ali had no choice but to leave this country tonight, he knew he could not leave Rose here in such a situation.  
  
"Ali?" a female voice called from the front of Rose's apartment. "Ali?"  
  
"Back here," he said to Yasmeen.  
  
Yasmeen appeared in the doorway to the bedroom along with a tall man dressed in dark clothing. He sported shaggy, dark hair and skin that had been baked by the desert. Ali knew him well, for Devraj was a childhood friend. Now, however, was not the time for a reunion and when the two visitors laid eyes upon the scene, they both frowned.  
  
"Ali, what happened?" Yasmeen asked.  
  
"This man attacked Rose, then turned his gun upon me. I had no choice but to take his life," Ali said with no emotion as he stood.  
  
Yasmeen surveyed the scene without shock, for she too had the disposition of a warrior and nothing caused her to turn away with disgust.  
  
"This is not good, Ali. We have to cross the border and fly out tonight. The chartered plane will not wait forever," she announced, then asked, "Was this man after you?"  
  
"No. He was after Rose," Ali explained.  
  
Yasmeen's eyes scanned the man on the floor. "He does not look like a typical American thug."  
  
"I do not think he is," Ali agreed, having already deduced that for himself. "I believe he was after Rose."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Ali shrugged his shoulders and reached out to touch Rose's face, making doubly sure she was all right.  
  
"I am not sure of all the particulars, but Rose is hiding from someone or something. I have sensed that about her for a long while now. And she spoke a moment ago. She said, 'they found me.'"  
  
Yasmeen knelt beside Rose and felt her pulse and examined the wound on her head.  
  
"She will be fine," Yasmeen said. "Call the authorities, leave her here and let's go."  
  
Ali glared at his friend with shock. "I cannot do that, Yasmeen."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because, she is my friend. If she is in trouble, I must help."  
  
Just then, they heard a male voice call from the living room. It held an American accent and they all quickly stood and moved into the shadows of the room for cover.  
  
"Hey, Lou," the man continued to say as his voice neared the bedroom. "What you doin'? You know the big guy'll take you out if you're messin' with his daughter."  
  
The man's voice trailed off and an oath issued from his mouth as he entered the room and laid eyes upon the two bodies on the floor.  
  
"What the.?" the man began to ask out loud just as Devraj moved behind him hitting him squarely on the head, rendering him unconscious. The second man slumped to the floor and Ali and Yasmeen swiftly moved back into the open of the room.  
  
"So, what do you plan to do, Ali?" Yasmeen questioned as surveyed the three bodies now on the floor.  
  
Having already decided his course of action, for he owed Rose as much to protect her, Ali answered, "We'll leave the two men here. We take Rose with us. Grab a bag from her closet and pack her things."  
  
Yasmeen stared at Ali, awestricken.  
  
"But Ali." she began to protest.  
  
Throwing her a sharp look, Ali asked, "What? You question my leadership?"  
  
Yasmeen's eyes traveled to Devraj. She knew it was unwise to question Ali in front of his men. Behind closed doors, he allowed her much leeway because her father was a respected Council member and because they had known each other since childhood. But to question his authority now, in front of one of his faithful warriors, would be foolish.  
  
"Of course not, Ali. I will pack her a bag," Yasmeen agreed and quickly went about her task.  
  
As Yasmeen collected clothing and a few personal items for Rose, Ali knelt down next to Rose and attended to her wound, wiping the blood away with a damp cloth and checking for consciousness. She was still unresponsive and Ali felt himself worry more than he should over her condition. He was, after all, a hardened warrior having seen more than his share of battles and death already at his young age of thirty. Death and injury was part of life and he and his people had come to accept that centuries ago. Yet staring at Rose's injured body, a victim of some bizarre attack, Ali felt all his usual calm and cool begin to evade him for his best friend was in peril.  
  
Devraj immediately went to the two men and began searching their pockets for identification and additional weapons. He found additional weapons but no identification. Ali had already figured they would find no identification for these men were professionals of some sort and he wondered again why they had chosen Rose as their target.  
  
Perhaps it was that someone else had chosen Rose as a target. Maybe there was someone who was after Rose and these men had been hired to find her. It wouldn't surprise Ali if that were the case after hearing Rose's words before she had slipped away into unconsciousness. "They found me." That statement still resonated in Ali's ears and as he gazed at Rose's beautiful face, he wondered exactly who had found her.  
  
"I am done, Ali," Yasmeen announced as she zipped up a nylon duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder along with a brown leather purse that Ali had seen Rose carry often.  
  
"Good. Take her things, Yasmeen, while I carry Rose." Ali gathered Rose in his arms then looked at Devraj. "Dev, take care of things in here."  
  
Ali needed to say no more for Devraj would understand the complete meaning of that order. He would see to it that the second man was dead and then arrange the scene to appear as if the men had attacked each other. Hopefully, their interference would confuse the American authorities and leave this scene a mystery forever. Of course, it didn't matter to Ali if the authorities realized the scene had been rigged, for he was never planning to return here. And as for Rose, well, after this, she too would be unable to return to her life here.  
  
"You do realize you are making a decision for her that will affect the rest of her life," Yasmeen commented to Ali as they exited the apartment. It was as if Yasmeen had been reading Ali's mind. He said nothing to her in return.  
  
"How do you think she will respond to that, Ali?" Yasmeen then questioned.  
  
Ali finally looked down at Yasmeen as they reached the large Suburban truck they had acquired for their trip. "I do not know."  
  
Yasmeen frowned at his answer as they loaded Rose into the back seat of the car. Ali sat on one side of Rose, Yasmeen on the other. Immediately, Yasmeen dug out a first aide kit and began examining Rose's wound with expert eyes.  
  
"Who were those men in her apartment?" Yasmeen then inquired.  
  
"I do not know," Ali said.  
  
"Why would someone attack her?"  
  
"I do not know," Ali said again.  
  
"Where does this woman come from? Is there something in her past that would make her a target?"  
  
"I do not know," Ali repeated yet again.  
  
Looking frustrated, Yasmeen glared at Ali and quipped, "It appears as if you know nothing of this woman."  
  
"I know she would do the same for me if circumstances were reversed. And, I know I can trust her," Ali finally said.  
  
"Trust her? Really? Does that mean she knows what you really are?"  
  
Ali shook his head. "No. We speak only of the here and now. We do not discuss our pasts."  
  
With a surly tone, Yasmeen replied, "Yes, I can see how you two have developed such a trusting friendship."  
  
Ali glared at her with his dark eyes and she closed her mouth to continue her work on Rose's wound. She would say no more, for it was obvious Ali believed he could trust this woman. And if Ali insisted Rose be brought with them to Egypt, Yasmeen would have to comply for Ali was now the master of their people. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
He remained concealed in the black sedan, watching the scene unfold. Two of his men had entered the apartment, yet the people who exited it were not his men. Instead two different men and a woman exited, carrying with them Rosalinda's limp body.  
  
Victor Galbadon bit back an oath and remained in his car, knowing better than to try and surprise a group of people who had obviously evaded his own men. He wondered who exactly these people were and what had happened inside that apartment.  
  
Grabbing up his cell phone, he called his boss. The big man would not be pleased when he told him what had happened. He would not be pleased at all.  
  
And Victor was correct. Once he had Alfonse on the phone and he explained the strange happenings, he could hear the man rattle off a string of curses that even made him blush. When the big man finally took a breath, Victor said, "We should send some cleaners in to take care of things in the apartment. We don't want any traces of our men in Rosa's place."  
  
"Of course not. I'll get on the phone immediately and send in a team. But are you certain our men are dead?" Alfonse asked.  
  
"I'm assuming so. I could go check if you want, but this group is starting to head out with Rosa. Don't you think I should follow?" Victor inquired.  
  
"Yes, follow. By all means, follow. I don't want my daughter out of your sight. I want to know who these people are she's with and I want her back," Alfonse insisted.  
  
The Suburban's lights flicked on and the vehicle started to roll out of the parking lot. Victor started his own car's engine and said, "They're heading out, Alfonse. I'll sign off now. I'm right behind them."  
  
He too wanted Rosalinda back-at any cost.  
  
****  
  
Her brain was foggy and her eyes refused to focus causing her eyelids to flutter shut again and again. Rose continued to try and force her eyes open, hoping that eventually she would be able to focus on something.  
  
Finally, after much effort, she made out the contours of a ceiling fan swirling above her.  
  
Where was she?  
  
She had no ceiling fan in her room and wasn't she in her room when she had gone to bed?  
  
She licked at her dry lips and felt the scratchiness of her throat. Her head pounded something awful and her stomach ached as if she had not eaten in days.  
  
Something was not right. Was she sick? Is that why she felt so horrible and why her vision blurred as she tried to make out individual objects around her?  
  
Then she heard them. Voices. People were talking quietly in the room. Again, she attempted to make out her surroundings and when she was finally able to zero in on the dark beige walls in need of painting and the wooden shutters that covered a window, she was positive she was not in her room.  
  
"Oh my god," she breathed once she realized her surroundings. Then she remembered the man in black and a cold fear seized her. "No," she cried softly.  
  
"You're awake," a female voice said as a woman moved next to her, sitting on the bed and looking her over with earnest. "How do you feel?"  
  
Rose moved her eyes to focus on the woman at her side and the effort caused her head to hurt. After several moments of pained effort, Rose was able to make out the beautifully exotic features of the woman she had seen in Ali's apartment.  
  
If things weren't strange enough already, recognizing this woman had just convinced Rose that she had awoken in an episode of the X-Files. Hadn't her father's men gotten to her? If so, what was Ali's friend doing here?  
  
"Ali?" she finally asked.  
  
"Ali's not here right now. He'll be back shortly," the woman answered.  
  
"Where am I? What.happened?"  
  
"You are safe," was all the woman would say and that was all Rose had time to hear before she again fell into that heavy haze that she had struggled to escape from for only a few moments.  
  
****  
  
Rose forced herself awake again, and this time the effort was easier than the first. As she looked around at the room she occupied, its sparse furniture nothing remarkable, she wondered if she had dreamed the woman at her bedside. But after a few minutes, the woman reappeared, carrying a glass of water.  
  
"Here. Drink while you are conscious," the woman said.She assisted Rose with the glass and the effort to drink caused her head to pound furiously.  
  
Rose reached up and felt a huge lump on the left side of her head. Weakly she asked, "What hit me?"  
  
"A very large man with a gun," the woman said.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"We were hoping you could tell us that."  
  
Rose gave her head a small shake though her memory was returning full force. Until she knew more about where she was and what was happening, she would divulge nothing.  
  
"Who are you?" Rose finally inquired.  
  
Putting the glass of water down on a small side table, the woman sighed and reluctantly revealed, "My name is Yasmeen."  
  
"I saw you with Ali," Rose said.  
  
"Yes. I was there to accompany him home," she explained.  
  
"Where is he now?" Rose asked, praying the woman answered that he was nearby.  
  
"He is here. I will get him for you."  
  
The woman was gone from Rose's view and a moment later, Ali appeared. Rose couldn't have been happier to see him. He was dressed in a white T-shirt and khaki pants, his hair pulled back in a ponytail and his glasses again upon his face. She remembered when she had last glimpsed him, his shirt halfway unbuttoned and his hair falling in waves past his collar, and she wondered if that sexy look had been a dream for he was again looking like his usual, reserved self.  
  
"Rose," he said with a smile as he sat down on the side of the bed and placed a warm hand upon her face. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Groggy. What happened?"  
  
"You were attacked," he answered her.  
  
"By who?"  
  
"You don't know?" Ali inquired.  
  
"I've never seen that man before," Rose decided to say. Again, she was hesitant to divulge information about her past and her attacker even to Ali.  
  
Ali sighed and it sounded as if he was displeased with her answer.  
  
"Are you certain?" he asked.  
  
Rose nodded though the action hurt.  
  
"Where are we? How did I get away from that man?" Rose questioned, suddenly feeling as if she were still in a bizarre dream.  
  
Ali hesitated and looked squarely at Rose's face.  
  
"You do trust me, don't you, Rose?" he asked.  
  
"Of course. You're the only person I trust." Her answer was the truth. She could trust no one else except Ali. Even though she had not burdened him with her terrible life story, she trusted him.  
  
Her trust, however, could not prepare her for his answer. When she heard his words, she blinked several times trying to digest the truth.  
  
"Egypt?" she asked, aghast. "We're in Egypt?"  
  
"Yes. I told you, Rose, I had to come back here. And when I found that man attacking you in your apartment, I felt I had no choice but to take you away from whatever had happened. At the time, the only logical solution seemed to bring you here with me."  
  
"It seemed logical for you to bring me to another continent?" she shot out.  
  
Ali stood and glared down at her with a look Rose had never seen upon his face before.  
  
"Would you rather I called the authorities and tried to explain why there were two dead men in your apartment?" Ali inquired.  
  
Rose wished her brain wasn't quite so groggy. She wished she could fathom all that Ali had just revealed but it was impossible.  
  
"Two men? Dead? Ali, what happened?" Rose asked.  
  
"First answer me if you would rather I had called the authorities back in California," he demanded.  
  
Slowly, Rose said, "No. I would not have wanted that."  
  
"Because you are hiding something?" he guessed.  
  
Rose felt her stomach twist and turn and she wondered if it was caused from her injury or from the realization that her life had once again been turned completely upside down. She couldn't stand the way Ali was looking at her, nor could she reveal to him about her past life. There was too much she just wanted to forget.  
  
"Ali," Rose said quietly, her vision blurring at the edges. "If we are truly in Egypt, then the incident in my apartment can not follow us here."  
  
Ali nodded at her words and regained his seat next to her on the bed. His face had softened at her explanation.  
  
"If you are certain, Rose, then I believe you," he told her. "Now rest. We have a long journey ahead of us soon."  
  
"What journey?" she inquired.  
  
"To my village," he answered. "We are in Cairo now and as soon as you are well, we will leave."  
  
Rose had a million other questions, yet her body could no longer remain awake long enough to ask them. She felt Ali's touch upon her face, a few soft words issued from his mouth in that rich tone of his and then she was out.  
  
****  
  
"Is she asleep again?" Yasmeen inquired as Ali exited Rose's bedroom with a perplexed look upon his face.  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Did she offer you any explanation?" Yasmeen then asked.  
  
Sighing as he sat on the dark couch in the living space between the two bedrooms of the hotel suite they were using, Ali didn't answer her right away. Instead, he reran Rose's words through his brain. Finally, he said, "She insists the incident in California is no longer a threat-especially here."  
  
"Yes, but who were those men? What was that attack all about?" Yasmeen asked as she sat on the couch next to him and looked him squarely in the face with some anxiety.  
  
Ali smiled at her for the first time since they'd been reunited and replied, "Yasmeen, do not worry so. Whatever happened back in Rose's apartment only has to do with her, not with us. We need to only worry about the terrorist faction that is searching the desert for the Fortress of Aten."  
  
His words only seemed to lessen the worry a fraction that resided upon her face.  
  
"Yes, the fortress is a major concern, but Rose concerns me too. I doubt that her problems have anything to do with us, but what if her problems make their way here to Egypt? We could be hindered in our efforts," Yasmeen pointed out.  
  
Ali stood then and paced the floor of the hotel. They had rented a suite in a hotel that was well off the beaten path of the usual tourist trail. Their accommodations were adequate enough for their purposes and the hotel manager was a person who asked no questions. They had dealt with him on numerous occasions before and Ali knew their identities and purpose would be kept quiet.  
  
"That is a possibility," Ali agreed.  
  
"Then why bring her here with us?" Yasmeen asked.  
  
With a sarcastic smile, Ali countered, "It is a bit late for that. She is already here."  
  
"Yes, but she needn't travel with us home. Leave her here in Cairo with someone you trust to see to her safety. You know it would be little effort to get her a forged passport and then have her sent wherever she desires to go."  
  
Ali studied Yasmeen's face carefully for he could not tell whether she was making this suggestion because she was truly worried or just because she wanted to toy with him.  
  
"I could send her away," Ali began.  
  
"But you won't," Yasmeen finished for him. "You care for her, don't you?"  
  
"Like I said, she is my."  
  
Yasmeen interrupted. "Yes, yes. She is your friend. I understand that. But that is not what I meant."  
  
"I know what you meant," Ali snapped. "And what if I do care for her? What difference does it make?"  
  
Standing, Yasmeen explained, "The difference it makes, Ali, is that once she discovers that you are not really that simple, ordinary computer programmer you have pretended to be for the past two years she may not care much for you in return."  
  
"But I am a computer programmer," he returned, hoping to sound light now that they had focused on his private life.  
  
"Of course you were and are," she said with some frustration. "Just as I am a nurse and several others of our young people are educated professionals in some modern skill. Yet you know that few people live our true lives. Few people understand our duty, our long history to keep watch over the desert. And very, very few people would willingly give up their culture and life to join us, no matter how much they may care for one of us."  
  
Ali remained silent, so Yasmeen continued. "Are you honestly going to reveal all that you are, all that we are, to Rose in the hopes that she's one of the few who would understand and remain in the middle of the desert to help carry out our centuries old work? Are you going to take that chance?"  
  
Slowly, Ali answered, "I may take that chance because I have a feeling Rose is not exactly what she seems on the outside either. That attack in California proves that to me."  
  
Sarcastically, Yasmeen snapped, "So because her life is a lie, she'll understand your lie? Is that your reasoning, Ali?"  
  
"Enough!" he growled, tired of her insistent questions. "Rose is coming back with us. I will hear no more argument."  
  
Yasmeen threw him a cool stare with her light brown eyes and crossed her arms over her well-endowed chest. "Just like your father Aarif and your grandfather Ardeth. When your authority is questioned, you turn into a tyrant."  
  
Narrowing his own eyes on her face, Ali replied roughly, "Because we were once childhood friends, Yasmeen, I will allow your comment.this time. Do not dare utter such remarks once the men have arrived."  
  
She closed her mouth, making no further verbal comment, but her face and eyes still conveyed her defiance.  
  
Frustrated as only Yasmeen could make him, Ali turned on his heal and headed for the door. "Remain here with Rose. I have phone calls to make to the museum and to the university." He left with no further word and closed the door with a loud thud behind him.  
  
By the time he had descended the three flights of stairs and landed in the lobby, his frustration had subsided. Yasmeen could cause his tempter to flare quickly, but she could not affect him for long. Though they knew each other well, Ali held no feelings for Yasmeen beyond friendship, so her taunts only touched the surface of his emotions. Now if Rose were spewing such words his way, Ali knew they would cut deeply for he was realizing that his emotions ran wide and true for her.  
  
Ali phoned his contacts at both the museum and the university. For the past century, his people had fostered trusted contacts in those vital institutions. In fact, his uncle on his mother's side was the current curator at the museum and it was his information that was most vital today.  
  
"We have known for several months that a dangerous group was searching the desert for the Fortress of Aten. Yet as you know, we worried little because they had focused their attention west, almost in Libya," his uncle Saed said over the phone.  
  
"Yes, of course," Ali answered, already having been briefed on this information three months ago when he had returned home for his father's funeral. It was this renegade organization that had been responsible for his father's death. His people were quite certain they had sent an assassin to kill his father in the hopes that taking out the leader of their clan would cause confusion and delay action by the desert warriors. Yet the group had miscalculated the organization and determination of Ali's desert people, for they had barely faltered at the death of their chief, and now Ali was back in Egypt to claim his post as the next chief and their duty would continue as always.  
  
"Now, however," Saed continued, "they have moved east through the Sahara and I fear they are closing in. Apparently, they have hired a historian from Europe who is quite adept with Egyptian mythology and history." He paused and asked, "Have you spoken with Ahmad at the university yet?"  
  
"Not yet. We have just arrived in Cairo yesterday morning," Ali explained. "I am awaiting my men before I make any further moves or contacts. I was going to call him next."  
  
"I will save you a quarter," Saed said, "and tell you all that he knows as well. This historian is making progress and we need to be worried. I fear that this man may be able to decipher the historic clues and locate the fortress. He already has the Staff of the Sun."  
  
"What?" Ali asked too loudly, then glanced around to ensure he had not drawn attention to himself. "How? I thought that was locked safely away in London. Grandfather had seen to that decades ago."  
  
"As we all thought. But we have just recently been informed that there was a break-in at the London Museum several months ago. That is why you have been summoned home so early, Ali. Didn't anyone explain this to you?"  
  
"No. But I do not believe my escorts knew all this information yet. The Council sent Yasmeen and she hinted at something that was dangerous, but did not elaborate," Ali explained.  
  
"That is because she knows nothing more. The Council knows, I know, Ahmad knows. That is all until you feel the need to discuss the situations with your people."  
  
Ali nodded though the gesture was unseen by his uncle. Much information had just been passed his way that he needed to mull over before his men arrived in the morning. He needed to plot a course of action to deal with the terrorists and figure out what to do with Rose. He had complicated matters by bringing her along to Egypt, yet in his heart he knew he had done what was best for her. And when it came to Rose, he was starting to think more with his heart than with his brain.  
  
"Ali?" his uncle questioned when the silence remained.  
  
"Yes, Saed, I am here," he answered. "I was thinking."  
  
"There is much to think about. Ahmad and myself have been querying over this situation for days ourselves. We even contacted our friend in the government, for if these men who killed your father gain access to the fortress who knows what type of power they could wield."  
  
"And of course, the government said they are concerned, but unable to assist," Ali replied dryly.  
  
"Exactly," Saed stated.  
  
This was no surprise to Ali for the Egyptian government had responded the exact same way to each new threat. They always mentioned their concern and would grant Ali's people much leeway in handling the situation, but they would be unable to assist for it was not a political matter.  
  
Ali wondered if their government would consider it a political matter if the renegade group discovered how to wield the power of the fortress and hold the world virtually hostage. Certainly then, it would be a political matter! Yet for now, as it had been for centuries, his people were on their own to defend the secrets of the pharaohs.  
  
And there were many secrets. Most historians knew of the myths of ancient Egypt, but few believed in them. Ali, however, believed in all of them, for it had been proven several times over the course of history, that they were real. Dangerously real. His father had died trying to protect those secrets as several other chiefs throughout time had perished. And if fate so deemed it, Ali too would die protecting the "myths" of the Sahara. It was in his blood.  
  
"Well, it appears as if for now, we are on our own," Ali said, though it was already known by both men.  
  
Ali was about to bid his farewell, when his mind again wandered back to Rose. Something about that night in California was still nagging at him. Though Rose had insisted that her troubles could not possibly follow them to Egypt, Ali still felt something strange in his bones. Taking a chance, he briefly explained to his uncle what had happened.  
  
"Saed, I wanted to ask you a favor," Ali said. "It is something completely unconnected with the fortress, but I would like a bit of help just the same."  
  
"Anything, Ali."  
  
"A friend of mine had some troubles in America. I am not exactly clear on the details yet, for she was injured and is still recovering."  
  
"She?" Saed asked with interest.  
  
Ignoring his uncle, Ali continued. "She is now here in Egypt."  
  
"With you?" Saed interrupted to question.  
  
Not bothering to answer his uncle, Ali repeated, "She is in Egypt and I have only a vague concern that she is not out of danger. But by chance if she is in danger, would you please keep an eye out for anyone inquiring of an American woman?"  
  
Ali heard his uncle sigh over the phone, then finally he answered, "Yes, of course."  
  
"Thank you, Saed. Now, I must go. You know where we are if you need to contact us."  
  
Ali hung up though he was positive his uncle had wanted to ask more of Rose. Yet Ali had purposely ended the conversation quickly for he had very little he could pass on about Rose or her situation.  
  
*** 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
Rose pushed herself up to a sitting position in bed. It was dark outside and she had no idea what day it was, or how long she had been in Egypt. Her head was pounding still, but not nearly as badly as before. As for her mind, she felt the fuzzy veil that had enveloped it previously begin to lift and for the first time she could think clearly.  
  
The first clear thought that entered her mind was Egypt. She could not believe she was in another country, nor could she believe Ali had brought her here. It was a very bizarre situation, and she half believed she had dreamed it all. Yet her conversation with Ali and that hard look upon his face convinced her that her situation was real.  
  
Rose wanted to contemplate her situation further, but Yasmeen entered her room briskly, carrying a pitcher of water and a frown upon her face. Rose remembered the beautiful woman had glared at her like that before during her periods of consciousness and it bothered Rose.  
  
"Good, you are awake," Yasmeen said with little joy. "You need to drink and maybe try to eat."  
  
"Yes, I do," Rose agreed.  
  
"Then you are feeling better?"  
  
"Much better," Rose answered.  
  
"Ali will be pleased," Yasmeen drawled and Rose noticed that Yasmeen was not pleased that she was feeling better.  
  
"Where is he tonight?" Rose asked, anxious to see a friendly face.  
  
"Out, preparing for our departure tomorrow."  
  
"Departure? Where?" Rose inquired with shock. If her situation wasn't odd enough already, now she had to deal with traveling to yet another location.  
  
Yasmeen handed Rose a glass of water and studied her face for a long moment.  
  
"Didn't Ali explain anything to you?" Yasmeen inquired.  
  
Rose slowly shook her head, not wanting to invoke pain from sudden movement.  
  
"Then I will tell you only what I can," Yasmeen agreed. "We are taking you to our village. You will be safe there and amongst friends during your stay."  
  
"And how long will I stay there?"  
  
Yasmeen lifted an indifferent shoulder and replied, "However long Ali wants you to stay. It is his decision."  
  
Yasmeen's tone left Rose cold. Bravely, she inquired, "But you would rather it be a short stay?"  
  
Yasmeen moved away from the bed and smoothed at the wrinkles in her long cotton skirt. She took a long while before answering. When she did, her answer was clipped and quick.  
  
"It does not matter what I want. Only what Ali wants."  
  
Rose wrinkled her brow at Yasmeen's answer. Who was this woman and how exactly was she attached to Ali? It was all so confusing and Rose only wished Ali were standing before her so she could ask him all her questions.  
  
"What does that mean, Yasmeen? And why is it that you do not like me?"  
  
"I know too little of your personality to make such a judgement. But I will tell you that I do not like your situation. Whatever happened in your apartment in America needs some explaining."  
  
Rose looked away. She didn't want to explain about her past.  
  
"No it doesn't. I'm not going back there again, so it doesn't matter what happened there." Rose paused. "Unless, of course, you and Ali plan to go back there again?"  
  
"No. I was in America only to escort Ali home. And now that he is here, he will be staying. He cannot go back to America now."  
  
"Because of what happened in my apartment with those men that attacked me?" Rose questioned.  
  
"No. Because he is needed here now. This is his home, this is where he will remain."  
  
Yasmeen sounded so resolute in her declaration that Rose just had to ask about her relationship with Ali.  
  
"You speak like you have a claim to him. Do you?"  
  
Yasmeen laughed at Rose's question.  
  
"A claim to him? No. I have no claim to him. I am not his wife, or even his lover."  
  
It was strange, but Rose felt relief from Yasmeen's words. Rose too had no claim to Ali, nor had she ever sought one. Yet just the thought of Ali belonging to some other woman tore at her heart.  
  
"Were you ever either?" Rose then boldly asked.  
  
Yasmeen hesitated and seemed to choose her words carefully.  
  
"Ali and I grew up together. We were childhood friends and for a short time we were.together. But that was many years ago and he has moved on."  
  
"You haven't," Rose remarked.  
  
Yasmeen obviously ignored Rose's comment, for her next question was on an entirely different topic.  
  
"Would you like me to draw you a bath? It will be your last chance at hot water for the next few days," Yasmeen said, moving toward the bathroom door.  
  
"The next few days?" Rose asked, aghast.  
  
Her comment halted Yasmeen in her tracks.  
  
"Yes, I told you, we are traveling through the desert to our village."  
  
"You said we were going somewhere, you never said it was through the desert."  
  
Taking the opportunity to taunt Rose, Yasmeen smiled mischievously and replied, "Rose, we are in North Africa, there is nothing but desert here."  
  
"Oh, right," Rose breathed. "What's the name of this village again?"  
  
"You needn't worry about that," Yasmeen answered.  
  
"Will I be all right traveling through the desert?" Rose questioned, gesturing toward the bump on her head.  
  
"We are not walking, you will be fine."  
  
Sarcastically, Rose asked, "And you know that because you're a doctor?"  
  
"I know that because I am a nurse. I have taken good care of you. You are fine. And I will ensure your comfort on our journey. You can trust me, regardless of what you think," Yasmeen explained.  
  
Rose gave a small nod, though Yasmeen had done little to explain things to her and only heightened her curiosity. There was still so much that she wanted explained to her and her only hope was that Ali would fill her in later.  
  
"In that case, I would like a bath," Rose said to Yasmeen. "And please, have Ali see me when he returns. I have much to ask him. None of this makes much sense to me."  
  
Yasmeen opened the bathroom door and said before entering, "And nothing about you makes much sense either, Rose." ****  
  
By the time Ali entered Rose's bedroom, it was well into the night and she was sound asleep on her bed. Yasmeen had mentioned that Rose was feeling better and had even eaten and bathed and wanted to speak with Ali upon his return. Unfortunately, he had returned quite late, and he was unsure whether he should disturb Rose or not.  
  
Carefully, he sat on the edge of her bed and gazed down at her peaceful slumber. There was much he wanted to ask her and he was certain she had much she wanted to ask him. Yet all the questions could wait until they were safely back at his home. There, they would be protected and all could be revealed. Here in Cairo, they were vulnerable and Ali wanted to take no chances that Rose would flee once she knew his secrets. It would be best to explain all in his village where she would have no choice but to listen and remain nearby until she digested everything.  
  
Rose stirred slightly, and a lock of hair fell in her eyes. With a long finger, Ali pushed it back behind her ear. The faint scent of soap and shampoo clung to her body and Ali bent down closer to her face, taking in her fresh smell. He was reminded of their walks to and from work everyday in California. She had always smelled of wildflowers and scented soap then, and her tanned skin had looked so fresh and clean. Even now, in the dark, he could see that healthy glow against the dark brown of her hair. She was truly beautiful, and Ali couldn't image any man not noticing her beauty.  
  
He had noticed it the first time he had seen her in the lobby of their office building. Yet that hadn't been his attraction. It was her humorous ways and love for life that anyone could see in her face that attracted him. He hadn't realized his attraction to her, though, until much later. He'd been drawn to her as a person immediately. But it had been that long progression of their friendship that he cherished most. And it wasn't until he had returned home for the brief visit when his father died, that he understood his true feelings for Rose. For when it had dawned on him that he would be leaving her for good to begin his new role in Egypt, he realized he loved her quite deeply.  
  
And now, he had her with him and even if she never returned his feelings, he would vow to protect her always.  
  
As all that ran through his mind, Ali bent nearer her face and gently pressed a kiss to her cheek. Soon, she would be in his village and he could reveal all to her.  
  
She stirred as he kissed her and opened her eyes with a start. Reacting quickly, she jerked away and shot out, "No!"  
  
"Rose, it is me," Ali said calmly.  
  
Relief flooded Rose's face and she immediately fell against his chest, her breathing rapid, her arms embracing him.  
  
"Ali, thank God. I thought." her sentence trailed off as she realized she was about to tell him too much. Her dreams had turned into nightmares of her past and when Ali had touched her, she'd been jolted awake, certain her nightmares were real. Since the incident in her apartment, Rose had a nagging feeling that her father was closing in on her whereabouts. But that was ridiculous for they were in Egypt and she was with Ali safe and sound.  
  
Hesitantly, Ali hugged her back. Her shock upon waking again told him she was hiding from something profound and very dangerous, so he inquired, "You thought what?"  
  
"I was just having a bad dream. A lot has happened. I'm not myself," Rose answered as she pulled away from him. It felt both odd and natural to be in Ali's arms, even if it was an innocent embrace of friendship.  
  
"True. A lot has happened," Ali agreed. Then he added, "And there's a lot more that will happen in the next few days."  
  
"You mean us leaving for some mysterious trek across the desert to your home?" she inquired with humor.  
  
"That, among other things." Taking Rose by the shoulders, Ali looked at her face in what little light filtered in to the room from the window. "Look, when we arrive at my village, you and I have much to discuss."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"Such as what exactly went on back at your apartment in California."  
  
There was that hard look on his face again. Rose wanted to turn away from him, but his stare was too intense to avoid.  
  
"I told you, Ali, what happened there will stay there," Rose insisted. "And what about you? Would you care to explain how you got me to Egypt unconscious and why you thought to bring me here to begin with? And what happened to those men in my apartment? Can you tell me that?"  
  
All that Ali had done seemed so incredibly out of character for him. Rose wanted to know what exactly had happened in her apartment and why Ali was acting so unlike himself now. She wanted to know a lot, but from the expression on Ali's face, Rose was positive he would reveal little.  
  
"As for those men in your apartment, don't worry about what happened to them. And as for getting you here to Egypt, it was easy. We had a private plane chartered out of Mexico. They ask few questions in that country," Ali explained.  
  
"And do you always travel by private plane out of countries that ask few questions?" Rose inquired.  
  
With a light smile, Ali said, "Whenever possible."  
  
Rose smiled back, though she had a feeling he wasn't entirely joking. Suddenly, the man she'd known for two years, the average computer programmer with a nine to five job, was turning out to be something more.  
  
"You know, I can't tell whether or not you're joking. You're different, Ali."  
  
"I am the same person," he insisted. "However, things may change once we arrive in my village. I may appear different to you at first, but trust me Rose, I will always be that same person who's been your best friend for the past two years."  
  
His words were cryptic, something he had never been before. Then Rose thought back on the last night they had walked home from work together. She'd been thinking then that Ali had transformed somehow. His appearance growing more striking, his attitude more closed-even to her. And now that he was telling her things may change, Rose was positive they would.  
  
"And what about us, Ali? Will we still be friends once we arrive in your village?"  
  
"Always."  
  
"And how long will I stay there with you?" Rose remembered Yasmeen's answer to that question earlier today and she wanted to hear what Ali would say.  
  
"As long as you are happy and content there. My home and the home of my people is open to you."  
  
"Your people?" Rose asked. "That sounds strange."  
  
Ali stiffened slightly, knowing that Rose was too sharp to miss any details in their conversation, so he covered by saying, "I was referring to my culture. My hometown. That is all."  
  
Rose sighed and leaned back against the pillows on her bed.  
  
"Tired?" Ali questioned.  
  
Rose nodded and yawned.  
  
"You had better rest up for your trip tomorrow. You and Yasmeen will be getting an early start to beat the heat," Ali said.  
  
"You're not coming with us?" Rose asked, suddenly feeling fear, her exhaustion eluding her.  
  
"I will meet you in my village in a few days. I have further business to attend to. It is urgent. But do not worry, you will be safe with Yasmeen. She is adept at finding her way through the desert."  
  
"Yes, but is it safe?"  
  
"Yasmeen is also adept at defending herself. No desert bandit would dare cross her," Ali said with a light, reassuring tone.  
  
"I wasn't referring to the dangers of the desert. I was wondering if it was safe for me with Yasmeen."  
  
When Ali glanced at her with a furrowed brow, Rose explained, "I get the feeling she doesn't like me."  
  
Carefully, Ali said, "She is.wary. That is all. But she is.loyal.to me and you will be safe." Ali realized his statement about Yasmeen's loyalty would seem strange to Rose. After all, Rose did not understand his inherited role and how Yasmeen was loyal to him because of his place among their people and nothing more.  
  
"Loyal?" Rose asked with a small chuckle. "That's an odd statement, Ali."  
  
"I know. It is a long story and like I said, you and I will have much to discuss later. For now, you need to rest for your trip."  
  
"But now you have me fearing desert bandits," Rose stated with sarcasm.  
  
Ali chuckled at her remark and his laugh was deep and real. Rose could see that he was not wearing his glasses and she thought the look of him in casual clothes with the dark goatee and moustache upon his face made him more handsome. His computer geek image was quickly disappearing.  
  
"Rose, you will be safe," Ali assured her. "I guarantee it."  
  
His words were comforting, and Rose was certain he knew the future outcome of their trip.  
  
"All right," Rose said on a yawn. "I believe you."  
  
"Then I will bid you farewell now, and see you in a few days." Ali bent down and kissed Rose on the forehead. It was a platonic kiss and she smiled up at him with an impish grin. Just as Ali was certain Rose would leave it at that, she reached out and touched his face with a gentle caress.  
  
"I'll miss you," she confessed. "After all, I have seen you almost everyday for the past two years."  
  
"You have," Ali agreed. Then he reached for her hand and pulled it from his face where it left an emotional imprint upon his skin. Holding it to his lips, he kissed it and asked, "Rose, tell my why you ran from my apartment that night in California?" He had to know more about her reaction that night. Had there been something more to her embarrassment? He prayed it had been jealousy that had sent her fleeing.  
  
"I thought I had interrupted you and Yasmeen," Rose confessed.  
  
"And that bothered you?"  
  
Slowly, Rose nodded. Her hand burned in his and again she found her recent physical reactions to him strange.  
  
"I thought I knew you completely. Seeing Yasmeen there proved to me I didn't," Rose told him.  
  
With a regretful look in his eyes, Ali remarked, "You can never know anyone completely, Rose." Then, as if he had reconsidered his statement, he added, "But you will."  
  
It was then that he had to convey his feelings. He had to do so now before she discovered all about him. He wanted her to love the man she had known for the past two years, and not the fierce, warrior side that would soon emerge. So taking a bold chance, Ali leaned down and tenderly touched his lips to hers. His kiss was warm and simple, though it took all his resolve to keep it at that.  
  
When he straightened to study her face, he saw only wonder.  
  
"What is wrong?" Ali questioned quietly.  
  
"I was just wondering why we never did that sooner," Rose admitted. "Although, I never thought much about it until recently-until I found myself jealous of Yasmeen in your apartment."  
  
With a smile, Ali said, "You don't need to be jealous of anyone, Rose. I love only you. That is why I brought you here with me."  
  
His words seemed to spark something in her, for she suddenly sat up, her mouth ready to explode with words.  
  
"Ali, I must explain something to you. You have to know." If he really loved her, then he had to know who she really was.  
  
He wouldn't allow her time to explain. His finger landed on her lips and halted her words.  
  
"Not now, Rose," he ordered. And it was an order. Subtle, but an order none-the-less.  
  
His finger caressed her bottom lip for a moment, causing it to quiver from the tender contact, then he quickly removed his hand as if he'd had second thoughts and said, "Now, you will rest. You and I will talk later. I just wanted you to know everything I felt so you would have something to think about while we were apart."  
  
"It does not scare you, does it?" he suddenly questioned with rare insecurity.  
  
"No. Not at all," Rose said, but did not return his words. Instead, she moved her arms around his shoulders and hugged him fiercely for a moment. Just as she was positive she had glimpsed muscles on his body in his apartment that one night, she was again sure she felt them now. But he broke the contact too quickly for her to be completely certain.  
  
"Enough for now, my darling," he said lowly, next to her ear, sending a shiver down her spine from his warm breath. "I did not come in here to seduce you, merely to tell you to have a good trip."  
  
His words, his endearment, warmed Rose down to her toes. It felt good to be loved by someone whom she could trust, someone who would never harm her. Images of her ex-fiancé and father raced through her mind and Rose was again compelled to explain all to Ali. But he was tucking the bed-covers around her and rising to his feet like a gentleman.  
  
"Have a good trip," he said with finality. "Now, rest."  
  
He turned to leave and all Rose could do was wonder if his small kiss and words of love had been real or an affect of the concussion she'd suffered.  
  
****  
  
"It's damn hot around here," Victor complained as he swiped at the sweat building on the back of his neck. Even the night air didn't diminish the heat it seemed in this country and he couldn't wait to grab Rosalinda and return to Chicago.  
  
"Its North Africa, Vic, home of the Sahara. What did you expect?" Tony asked with sarcasm. He was getting tired of traveling with Victor, Rosalinda's ex-fiancé and his father's right hand man. It wasn't that Victor was all that bad of company, but take him out of his element, and he grew rather testy.  
  
Victor Gaboldon, however, had been bad company for his sister. Tony understood completely why Rosalinda had fled the family five years ago. In fact, he had even had a small hand in helping her to leave putting her in contact with people who could assist in altering identities. People who had not been associated with their father, Alfonse San Giovani. But their father had been persistent in tracking her down and by a fluke, one of their old family friends had spotted her in southern California. Their attempt to nab her in California had failed and now Tony found himself in Egypt, accompanying Victor in an effort to find Rosalinda again. Yet Tony and Victor had different reasons for wanting to find Rosa. Victor wanted her back and Tony, he just wanted to see her again.  
  
"I'd expect some air conditioning around this place for one thing," Victor replied with his sometimes gruff manner. Victor could be a smooth operator when necessary, but also a rough man when the wrong mood hit him. And being in Egypt for two days, attempting to find a cold trail on Rosa was creating the wrong mood.  
  
Tony said nothing more and continued to look around from the passenger seat of their rented Range Rover. They had discovered a possible contact that may have seen Rosa at the airport in Cairo and it was their only lead.  
  
"Hey, there he is," Victor announced as a tall, lanky Caucasian man with short brown hair approached along with an old Egyptian man dressed in traditional garb.  
  
"Who's the old guy with him?" Tony inquired.  
  
"That's our contact," Victor explained. "The English guy is sort of an 'interpreter' who'll do anything for a few American bucks. He found that old man for us."  
  
"Willingly?" Tony asked as he saw the Englishman's hand gripping the old man's arm tightly.  
  
Victor only smiled, allowing Tony to draw his own conclusions and turned to the Englishman who stopped next to the driver side door.  
  
"Here he is, just as promised," the Englishman announced.  
  
"Hey, thanks, Jeffreys. Lets see if he has anything to divulge to us," Victor said.  
  
Jeffreys turned to the old man and spoke in fluent Arabic. The old man seemed reluctant to answer, until Jeffreys drew a knife from his pocket and brandished it. Tony had seen such tactics a thousand times before. Though he never participated, he never stopped them either. It was easier to pretend his friends and family were law abiding than to try to reform them.  
  
Finally, the old man spoke and it was obvious from the tone in his voice that he was doing so only under duress. Jeffreys translated.  
  
"It seems," Jeffreys relayed, "that he heard of a private plane that arrived a few days ago. It had an American woman on it and three Egyptians."  
  
"And where are these people and this American woman now?"  
  
The old man spoke again and Jeffreys said, "They're at a hotel on the outskirts of Cairo. I know the place."  
  
"Are they still there?" Victor asked.  
  
The old man shrugged.  
  
"Hell. Guess we'll have to find that out for ourselves," Victor mumbled.  
  
Understanding that their need for the witness was through, Jeffreys pushed the old man away and said something in the man's language. The old man hesitated for a moment, uttered with much enthusiasm and stood as if awaiting an answer.  
  
Jeffreys yelled at him and shooed him away. The old man again shouted out his words as he walked away. Jeffreys laughed.  
  
"What was that?" Tony inquired.  
  
"Aw, the old man's crazy. Says it'll be our death if we find the American woman," Jeffreys explained.  
  
"And why's that?" Tony asked.  
  
"He believes in some myth about a desert tribe of warriors. Says she's with them."  
  
Victor and Jeffreys both laughed and Tony remained silent. This was a land steeped in mysterious history and Tony wouldn't completely discount the old man's words. After all, whoever had saved Rosa from Victor's men had taken them out in the process and that made Tony wary.  
  
"Enough talk about myths," Victor insisted. "Lets find that hotel and stake it out. As soon as we see a sign of her, we'll find a safe place to take her."  
  
"Sounds good," Jeffreys said, jumping into the back seat of the vehicle, apparently joining the hunt. "I have a couple men for backup we can call in too, if need be."  
  
"That'll work," Victor agreed, and Tony was suddenly afraid all of this would become more complicated than they had first anticipated. **** 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
It was early morning, barely even dawn, when Yasmeen and Rose loaded their bags and supplies into the back of the old Jeep. The Jeep was dented and dirty, but it looked sturdy enough to get them through the desert. Its tires were large and new, its engine purred perfectly. Despite all that, Rose felt uneasy.  
  
Perhaps her uneasy feelings were due to the fact that she was traveling with Yasmeen, a woman who obviously disliked her presence. Or maybe, she felt off because she was still not entirely recovered from the nasty bump on her head. But mostly, Rose was certain her feelings were caused by Ali's absence. She'd seen him in the middle of the night and heard him confess some shocking feelings. Now, he was nowhere to be found, just as he had said would be the case until they were reunited in his village.  
  
"Ready?" Yasmeen inquired as Rose stood next to the passenger seat, staring at their surroundings. Egypt was a hot, deserty place and as Rose felt the heat of the morning already growing uncomfortable, she wondered for the first time just how she was going to survive in such a desolate country.  
  
"Sure," she finally said, though her enthusiasm was weak.  
  
They hopped in the Jeep and Yasmeen maneuvered the vehicle down the last few narrow roads that led out of the city limits. Within only a few miles they were on dirt roads and leaving all civilization behind. A few other vehicles traveled down the same dirt road sharing the path with camels, horses and walkers carrying their wares. None of that, however, held much interest for Rose until she spotted a group of a dozen riders in the distance dressed entirely in black, their heads and faces covered with turbans and veils and riding magnificent Arabian steeds.  
  
"That's interesting," Rose said out loud of her observations. "Are they Bedouin?"  
  
Yasmeen's eyes left the road for only a moment to gaze at the group riding by themselves in the distance toward the city.  
  
"No. The Bedouin are a very different group. They are nomads, herders. And they do not carry arms," Yasmeen said.  
  
Rose squinted her eyes trying to make out the figures. She could see no evidence of weapons other than the glint of sunlight off the scimitars they carried at their sides.  
  
"I see swords," Rose remarked.  
  
"Swords, yes. That is their traditional weapon." Yasmeen veered off the dusty path onto the dunes and began driving straight toward the group on horseback.  
  
"Don't we follow the road?" Rose inquired.  
  
"No, we drive through the desert. Our village is not located on any main route."  
  
They closed the gap on the horsemen quickly and as they drove past, Rose studied them closely. The group was dangerous looking. Though the men's faces were covered, their eyes followed the path of the Jeep as Yasmeen sped by. And not only did their stare cause a shiver to traverse Rose's spine, so did the bold display of automatic weapons slung over their shoulders.  
  
"Who are they?" Rose questioned as she pulled her eyes away from the group. They were walking their horses slowly toward the city and leading four rider-less horses with them.  
  
"They are called the Medjai," Yasmeen said with a slight grin.  
  
"Are they dangerous? They're carrying automatic weapons."  
  
"They can be very dangerous if you enter their territory."  
  
"And just where is their territory?" Rose asked, thinking it odd to see a band of men who exuded such tradition in their dress of black robes and turbans, while displaying modern weaponry at the same time.  
  
"Any part of the Sahara that hides ancient Egyptian ruins is the territory they protect. They are the guardians of the Pharos. Warriors of the desert."  
  
"They sound almost mythical," Rose said.  
  
Yasmeen's smile widened and Rose had to wonder why she found such pleasure in this conversation when she had done nothing but frown her way before.  
  
"Most believe they are. It is a rare glimpse we just received of them on their way toward Cairo. They keep a very low profile," Yasmeen said.  
  
"Low profile? They're carrying guns and not even attempting to hide them. Won't they get arrested going into the city armed?" Rose asked.  
  
Yasmeen shook her head. "No. They are allowed much leeway in Egypt. The government leaves the Medjai to their business."  
  
It was an interesting story and Rose was still curious, wanting to know more. She figured as long as she was going to be living in Egypt for a while, she may as well learn of its history.  
  
"And what is their business now to bring them into the city? This seems to be a pretty blatant display for a covert group," Rose observed.  
  
Yasmeen's smile disappeared. "Not long ago, their chief was killed. Their new chief is preparing to take over. I would guess that would bring them to the city for a rare visit."  
  
"Really? Their new chief lives in Cairo?" Rose asked with disbelief thinking a desert tribe would not have members traipsing about in a large city.  
  
"The Medjai have people everywhere. They are just well hidden."  
  
"You sound like you know much about these people," Rose observed.  
  
"I do," Yasmeen answered simply and the conversation was ended.  
  
****  
  
Word had been sent to him that his men had arrived. They were awaiting him on the outskirts of town and Ali was just gathering the last of his things and heading out of the hotel lobby when the manager halted him.  
  
"Mr. Bay, you have a phone call," the manager said to him quietly as he stopped him with a hand to his arm.  
  
Ali halted his exit and followed the man to his office to take the call. Again, Ali was pleased with the desecration of the manager and would see to it that he was rewarded for his efforts.  
  
"Thank you," Ali said as the manager left him to his call.  
  
Ali was thankful he had not left any quicker, for the call was quite urgent. Saed was on the line and he had news that caused the pit of Ali's stomach to spasm with dread.  
  
"Ali, I heard some news from a contact of mine at the airport that two American men were asking around about an American woman who may have arrived on a private plane a few days ago," Saed began.  
  
"Go on," Ali insisted.  
  
"Someone informed them that she had been taken to a hotel near the edge of town. Your hotel. They were seen in a beige Range Rover outside your hotel last night."  
  
"Really? Does anyone know what they were after?" Ali asked, though he already knew that Rose's problems had made their way to Egypt.  
  
"My contact just told me they followed two women in a Jeep out of Cairo today. Did you send Yasmeen and your friend on ahead?" Saed inquired.  
  
Ali cursed in every language he knew and Saed needed to ask no more. Instead, he suggested, "I do not believe you are too far behind them, Ali. Go with your men and you can certainly catch Yasmeen by nightfall."  
  
"I will, Saed. Thank you for the information. I will be in contact once I arrive home," Ali said quickly in parting and bolted out of the hotel. Rose had ensured him she would be safe in Egypt, but it was obvious she was wrong. If things weren't complicated enough for Ali already with a dangerous renegade faction combing the desert for the fortress, now he had to track down Rose and Yasmeen and deal with whatever men were following them. He was certain his strengths and patience would be stretched by the time he solved all his troubles.  
  
****  
  
"We're stopping here?" Rose asked as nightfall descended, turning the desert sky a deep velvet hue. "We're in the middle of nowhere."  
  
"Did you expect a roadside inn along the way?" Yasmeen asked with sarcasm.  
  
Rose would have snapped back at Yasmeen for her tone, but it was nearly the first conversation they had held since leaving Cairo and she welcomed the sound of words. However, she was already tired and weary from the long, hot drive in the old Jeep who's seats were lacking in comfort and the thought of spending the night in the middle of a desert canyon did not appeal to her.  
  
"I would like one, yes," Rose said back, hoping she didn't sound as sarcastic as Yasmeen. "But what has me more concerned than my own comfort is our safety. Is it safe out here?"  
  
Yasmeen gave a small laugh as she went about unpacking the Jeep.  
  
"Safe? Rose, we are in the middle of nowhere. Who would harm us?"  
  
"Well, you did happen to say that those darkly robed men we saw outside Cairo could be dangerous. How do we know they are not lurking about?"  
  
"They may very well be lurking about," Yasmeen teased. "But we are nowhere near any ancient ruins. Do not worry."  
  
Then, as if to add emphasis to her words, Yasmeen pulled open the long- sleeved khaki overshirt she wore and revealed a handgun holstered at her hip.  
  
"Like I said, do not worry," Yasmeen repeated.  
  
The gun actually caused Rose more concern for now a woman who obviously disliked her was armed and they were very much alone in the desert.  
  
She tried to push those worries out of her mind as they set up a small camp with a tent, sleeping bags and fire. Rose was thankful for the tent, for it meant any nocturnal creatures who combed the earth for their food at night would not have access to her. Unless of course they were the types of creatures strong enough to push their way through a nylon tent. Still, she felt safer with the idea of something over her head for the night and she mentioned so to Yasmeen.  
  
"I figured as much," Yasmeen replied as she made herself comfortable in front of the fire and ate from the dried fruit and meat they had brought. "That is why I packed the tent. I prefer to lay out under the stars, but I had a feeling you would not."  
  
"Its not that I haven't before," Rose defended. "In fact, I enjoy the outdoors quite a lot. It's just the thought of this vast desert that has me wary. I'm not familiar with the territory."  
  
"You will be eventually, if you can last that long out here," Yasmeen commented.  
  
"Are you implying that I'll run back to America in a few days, afraid of the mighty Sahara?" Rose challenged.  
  
"I am."  
  
Rose could see the glint of jest in Yasmeen's eyes. It was obvious this woman was not afraid to express her opinion and challenge everyone and everything in her path. Unfortunately, tonight, Rose was in her path.  
  
"Well, you're wrong. I have nothing to return to in America. Here at least, I have Ali."  
  
Yasmeen laughed for a good long time, then narrowed her gaze on Rose across the fire. "You only think you have Ali. The desert owns him."  
  
Rose found her comment strange and she stared at Yasmeen for a moment before replying. "Are you jealous of my friendship with Ali?"  
  
The smug look on Yasmeen's face disappeared and she turned her eyes back to her food.  
  
"Jealous? What is there to be jealous of? I can have any man I want, I do not need Ali too."  
  
Her words were bold, but Rose did not entirely believe them.  
  
"You may not need him," Rose stated, "but you want him."  
  
Quickly, Yasmeen stood and carried the remains of her food to the Jeep and repacked it in her bag. Her long dark hair was braided down her back and her olive drab military style pants covered her womanly curves. She was not only beautiful, but fierce as well. Rose could see how nearly every man could fall victim to Yasmeen. And it was obvious Yasmeen was still after Ali. Rose only hoped that what Ali had told her last night about caring for her would hold true, for she had a feeling Yasmeen was not in the mood to give up on Ali despite her words.  
  
"If we are venturing into a personal conversation here, why don't you tell me who you really are and what you're hiding from?" Yasmeen said curtly, changing the focus from her to Rose.  
  
Her turn to laugh, Rose chuckled and replied caustically, "Why, I'm just a working gal from southern California who was the unlucky victim of some thug."  
  
Yasmeen turned away from the Jeep and glared at Rose. "Of course you are. Just like Ali is nothing but a computer programmer who's spent one too many hours in front of a monitor writing code."  
  
Again, her tone was taunting, and Rose immediately understood that Yasmeen knew something about Ali that was very important. Something Rose was not privy to.  
  
Standing and brushing the dirt of the hard-packed valley floor from the seat of her khaki pants, Rose asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"It means you are both living a lie, Rose," Yasmeen spat out.  
  
Rose was poised to retort for she was positive she knew exactly who Ali was, when a male voice erupted in the night and sent a chill down her spine.  
  
"Rose? So that's the name you've acquired."  
  
Rose swallowed her fear at the sound of Victor's voice and slowly turned around. There stood her worst nightmare-her ex-fiancé.  
  
Victor was dressed, as always, stylishly, though the desert was a harsh environment. His short dark hair was in perfect place and his masculine face showed no hint of dirt or dust. Just how he accomplished that always baffled her, but what baffled her most was how he had found her in the middle of the Sahara.  
  
"Victor," she said on a gasp. "What.what are you doing here?"  
  
With a wide smile, which showed no hint of humor or goodwill, he replied, "I came to take you home, Rosa."  
  
Just then the deep, vibrating sound of a car engine filled the air and a beige Range Rover pulled up behind him and flicked on its lights blinding her in the bright glare. Several men piled out of the car and just as Rose saw Yasmeen pull her handgun, the men exiting the vehicle all extracted their own handguns.  
  
"I'd put that down if I were you, sweetheart. You're outgunned here," Victor said to Yasmeen.  
  
Yasmeen's face showed with fury, but she slowly placed the gun on the ground and kicked it a few feet away none-the-less.  
  
"That's a good girl," Victor cooed. Then he turned to Rose. "Tell me, is that the person responsible for taking out my men in California?"  
  
"I wouldn't know," Rose said and it was the truth. She had been unconscious during the attack and knew nothing of what had transpired.  
  
"Are the weapons really necessary?" Yasmeen suddenly said from behind. "After all, we are only women and there is nowhere we can run to."  
  
Victor laughed at her words and it was obvious he had already figured out Yasmeen was more than just a frightened female incapable of acting. He suddenly raised a gun and aimed it at Yasmeen. Rose was ready to scream at him to halt, when he fired two quick shots, flattening two tires of the Jeep. Yasmeen surprisingly didn't move an inch during the entire episode.  
  
"Yeah, right. And I'm only the concerned ex waiting to take my Rosa back with open arms." Victor reached for Rose and grasped her arm harshly, yanking her against him. "Isn't that right, Rosalinda?"  
  
"Vic," another male voice suddenly chastised from beside the vehicle. "Leave her be for now."  
  
It was Tony and Rose's heart leapt in her chest. Her beloved brother, the only person she had missed these past five years, was here too and she knew immediately from the look in his blue eyes that he would protect her from Victor's wrath.  
  
A high pitched whistle, possibly the sound from a night bird, bounced through the canyon and brought an eerie feel to the night. The air became still around them and Rose felt a deep vibration in the earth beneath her feet.  
  
"Yes, leave us both be," Yasmeen suddenly spoke up with devious knowledge in her voice, "or you will suffer the consequences."  
  
Victor and the men with him broke out with laughter and before they could finish a loud cry issued through the night and was followed by several other voices. The vibration in the ground increased and the sound of thundering hooves echoed around them. Before Rose knew what was happening, several men on horseback, cloaked in black, appeared in a rush and Victor's men panicked with wild shots from their guns.  
  
It seemed as if the men were firing at ghosts, for the swirl of riders around them disappeared and reappeared almost magically, never remaining in one spot long enough to make a decent target. Rose pulled away from Victor and turned just in time to see a tall rider on a black Arabian wield his scimitar and swing his blade across the chest of an unlucky man, sending him to his death with one blow. The man's gun fell from his grasp and the rider continued toward Rose. She fled from the path of his horse toward Yasmeen and found her discarded gun on the ground. Picking it up, she aimed it at the rider and ordered, "Stop, or I swear I'll blow you away!"  
  
The rider halted his horse and the animal danced from foot to foot. She saw the man's dark eyes burrow into her face with a hint of disbelief and then the language of Egypt spilled from his mouth in a loud retort.  
  
"Put the gun down and you will not be harmed," Yasmeen said to Rose by way of translation.  
  
"Yes, put the gun down, Rosa honey," Victor added, "and toss it this way."  
  
Rose swung her eyes toward the Rover and Victor's voice. All of Victor's men were disarmed or injured and a robed figure held each hostage with a gun or sword. It was then that Rose could take stock of what had transpired. The robed men were the same she had seen earlier, the Medjai. Rose wondered which group was more dangerous, Victor's or the Medjai.  
  
"Tell the guy to let us go, Yasmeen, and I won't have to kill him," Rose said as she continued to aim the gun at the man on the horse.  
  
The dark men all laughed when Yasmeen spoke and the man before her returned words.  
  
"He does not think you know how to shoot. He insists you are too fragile for that," Yasmeen relayed.  
  
"Really?" Rose asked back. Just then she swung her aim away from the man and shot at the right headlight of the Rover, hitting her target squarely. "Ask him if he'd like to reconsider his first impression."  
  
Any previous laughter died down and the man before her threw her a dark stare of anger.  
  
Rose looked at his determined eyes, for that was all upon his face that was not covered, and then at the blood upon his sword. He was certainly not a man to threaten idly, but when it came to fighting for her life, Rose was dauntless even before this desert warrior.  
  
"I believe you got his attention," Yasmeen said lowly under her breath. "And I suggest you put the gun down. It is not wise to provoke these men."  
  
"Why should I put the gun down?" Rose asked back. "Is it better to surrender to these men?"  
  
"Perhaps," Yasmeen replied.  
  
"Don't listen to her, honey," Victor called. "You're better off with me and you know it. Just toss me the gun and we'll settle all this right now."  
  
The man holding Victor hostage suddenly drew his sword and placed it at Victor's neck. His actions caused the other Medjai to follow suit. When Rose saw the sharp blade at her brother's neck, his handsome face filled with fear, she knew she had to act.  
  
"No!" she shouted to Yasmeen. "Tell them not to kill anyone!"  
  
Yasmeen spoke aloud in Arabic and the Medjai hesitated as the man on the horse in front of Rose also spoke. It was obvious to Rose he was their leader. He was giving the orders and the other men were obeying completely.  
  
"That's a girl, Rosa," Victor said with a smug voice though a sword was at his throat.  
  
"They can kill him," Rose snapped and inclined her head toward Victor.  
  
"Rosa!" Victor threatened.  
  
At her distraction, the leader dismounted and stood before her. She was startled by his bold move and took a moment to assess him. There wasn't much she could make out aside from the fierce look in his brown eyes, but she did catch a glimpse of long, raven hair falling near his shoulders from under his turban and an automatic weapon slung over his back that he could easily have already acquired and used on her. But he hadn't and she wondered why.  
  
Then he spoke and Rose waited for Yasmeen to interpret.  
  
"He again insists you put the gun down or suffer the consequences," Yasmeen said. "You are outgunned and outmanned."  
  
"Tell him to let us go. Let us get in the Jeep and drive away," Rose demanded.  
  
The man returned with an answer and all of his men laughed again.  
  
"What did he say?" Rose asked.  
  
With a sigh of frustration, Yasmeen returned, "He says he can't let you go because he wants to add you to his harem and because the Jeep's incapacitated."  
  
"What?" Rose shot out. "They still do that out here?"  
  
Yasmeen merely shrugged.  
  
"What about you?" Rose inquired of Yasmeen.  
  
"He does not want me," Yasmeen replied with sarcasm as she glanced at the man.  
  
As Yasmeen finished her words, a look of sheer impatience crossed the man's eyes and he spoke with force.  
  
"He says enough play," Yasmeen said. "And I agree, Rose. It is dangerous to taunt the chief of the Medjai."  
  
"So, he's the chief, huh?" She then glanced at Victor who was still at the mercy of the warrior's sword. "I guess I'm better off in the chief's harem than with Victor."  
  
"Is that so, Rosa? Well, make sure you tell the man I had you first," Victor shot out, his voice conveying his anger. "He may not want you then, once he finds out you're not so pure."  
  
Just then, the Medjai chief swung around and strode toward Victor. His warrior moved back and the chief struck out, landing a blow to Victor's face and sending him sprawling to the ground. He then wiped the blood from his sword on Victor's clean shirt. Again, he shouted out some command, and when Yasmeen said the chief had ordered Victor and his men to be killed, Rose quickly threw her gun to the ground.  
  
"No," she again pleaded. "Tell him he can take me, but don't kill anyone else." She could care less what became of Victor, but her brother she had to protect. She knew Tony had come with Victor to make sure she came to no harm. He would always look out for his little sister, and she had to return the favor. As for the other men in the group, she didn't know them and did not want to see harm befall them too. Her father operated in a world filled with violence, and she had escaped that world. She didn't want to have to relive it now by watching all these men die at the hands of desert warriors.  
  
The Medjai chief turned slowly from Victor's fallen body and stared at Rose. It was obvious he was considering her offer. Finally, after only a moment, he shouted out an order and moved toward Rose.  
  
Rose looked at Yasmeen for translation and when the woman told her that the man had insisted all the vehicles be disabled and weapons collected but no lives taken, she breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"He will not kill them," Yasmeen said, "but he is certain the Sahara will."  
  
"And what about us?" Rose inquired.  
  
Yasmeen glanced at Rose with mild amusement. "We go with them. After all, you just pledged yourself to their leader."  
  
No sooner did Yasmeen finish talking than a man came up to Rose and tied a blindfold over her eyes and bound her hands in front. She felt herself being handed up to a man on horseback and placed in front of him upon his horse. A strong arm looped around her waist and she was positive it would be a difficult task to escape this man. And when he called out a few minutes later, she realized it was the chief she was riding with and knew her fate for the time being was sealed.  
  
****  
  
"I'll get you, Rosa!" Victor's voice shouted after the departing horsemen. "So help me, I'll get you back and you'll be sorry."  
  
Those words chased after them and Ali wanted nothing less than to turn around and drive the tip of his scimitar through the man's abdomen. Yet Rose had been so insistent he not kill anyone and even sacrificed herself for those men back at the camp, that Ali had granted her wish.  
  
It had not surprised him that the men after Rose were dangerous. What did surprise him, however, was Rose's desire to protect them. Then there was the issue of her name. Rosa, they called her. Was that her real name or just a nickname? And what about her ability to handle a weapon? Ali never would have guessed sweet Rose would brandish a gun and threaten to kill him while taking out a target with the skill of a marksman. Too much about Rose was now a mystery and because Ali had so many questions, he had decided to keep his identity hidden from her until he could get her to confess what she was hiding. And perhaps pretending to be somebody else would be the perfect way to discover all. **** 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
Rose knew they had ridden all night and through the morning. She could feel the heat of the sun begin to beat upon her face and she hoped they reached some destination soon for she was growing completely exhausted. It wasn't so much the heat that was causing her discomfort, but rather the memory of the ordeal from the night before and the pounding of her head. The constant rhythm of the horse's stride was reverberating in her skull and giving new life to pain from the bump on her head.  
  
It wasn't long after those thoughts entered her mind that the horses halted. She felt herself losing her balance atop the animal and if she could see, she was certain her vision would be slightly blurred. She had been forced to ride too long for her current condition and she was feeling weaker than she had in two days.  
  
The man she rode with must have sensed she was losing her balance and about ready to fall, for his arm tightened around her waist and he hauled her against his body. At that moment she was thankful for his strength, but knew she would fear it later when she was confronted with the reality of what this warrior group had planned for her and Yasmeen.  
  
And just where was Yasmeen? Rose had heard no other feminine voices during the ride and she hoped the Medjai had brought Yasmeen with them instead of leaving her for Victor's group. Though Rose and Yasmeen had started off at odds with each other, it didn't mean Rose wished Victor upon the woman. Rose wouldn't wish that upon any woman for Victor was not a kind man. Rose had admired him with the eyes of a child and it wasn't until she had won his attention and affection that she realized too late the kind of evil, hateful man he was.  
  
The man holding her conversed with someone else and she sensed a bit of worry and perplexion in his tone. Then the horse beneath her walked slowly forward and five minutes later she was being hoisted off the horse with gentle care. That gentleness surprised her, for she was certain she was a hostage and nothing the men would care for. Yet she was being treated quite well so far by the hands that were guiding her and when she was set upon her feet on the ground and felt her legs unable to support her, those same hands steadied her and lifted her to be carried.  
  
Rose must have blacked out for a while after being lifted into strong arms, for when she again assessed her situation, she was no longer in the sun, but rather in some form of shade. And from the lack of any breeze and the smell of slightly stale air, she had a feeling she was in some kind of shelter. Her body was partially on the ground and partially braced by a man. He was holding something to her lips and instinctively, Rose reached out and clasped at his wrist with her bound hands.  
  
"Don't," she whispered, finding her voice would create no louder a sound.  
  
"Drink," he said with a low tone. "You are not well."  
  
Rose hesitated at doing or saying anything for the man's voice reminded her much of Ali's. His handsome face flashed in her mind for a moment and before she could realize how absurd her idea was, she asked, "Ali?"  
  
There was a long pause before the man spoke again. "That is not my name, but I do have an Ali among my men if you would like me to go retrieve him for you."  
  
His accented voice held much sarcasm, and Rose shook her head slightly and replied, "No. I just thought.never mind." She began reaching for the blindfold on her face when the man halted her with a firm grasp.  
  
"No," he ordered gruffly.  
  
Rose sighed with frustration and questioned, "Who are you? I just want to see."  
  
"No, you may not see," he answered. "But I will tell you who I am. I am the chief of the desert tribe of the Medjai. The man you held at gunpoint." He added his last phrase with a hint of anger as if to remind her he was still displeased with last night's adventure.  
  
So, she was with the same man she had seen the night before who had pretended to know nothing of English when she'd been making her demands.  
  
"You speak English now?" she asked caustically.  
  
"I spoke English last night," he teased, "but I preferred not to. My own language tends to strike more fear into the hearts of the men we raid."  
  
"And just why did you raid those men last night? To claim Yasmeen and myself?"  
  
The man was still holding her and again he placed something against her lips and said simply, "Drink."  
  
Rose was thirsty, her throat dry, and she loosened the grip on the man's wrist and took a sip of the water he was offering her. It was warm water, yet this was the Sahara and she figured cold anything would be impossible to come by.  
  
When she was finished, she pushed the canteen away and took several deep breaths of the heated, stale air. She had a million questions to ask, and wanted to be unbound, but she was positive this desert warrior would neither answer her questions nor untie her.  
  
Suddenly, she felt his touch upon her head and he said, "You are hurt."  
  
"Not badly," she replied, knowing the bump on the side of her head looked worse than it actually was.  
  
"I will have the other woman sent in to attend to you. She claims she is a nurse."  
  
"So you brought Yasmeen along as well?" Rose inquired.  
  
"Of course," the man answered. "You are both safer with the Medjai than with those other men."  
  
"Safer?" Rose remembered the swiftness with which the Medjai had attacked and the fierceness of their leader's assault on that gunman with his sword. She wondered if she was safe at all with these men. "I doubt that. After all, I am bound and blindfolded."  
  
"You are. But what condition would you have been in if I had left you to those men in the canyon?"  
  
"I'd more than likely be bound and blindfolded as well," she snapped.  
  
At her words, the man laid her on the floor, which felt like a canvas tarp beneath her. She heard his steps carry him a few feet away. She pushed to a seated position, feeling vulnerable on the ground and blind to her surroundings.  
  
"Why did you take us and what exactly do you have planned?" Rose questioned when the man said nothing to her for several minutes.  
  
Again, he remained mute.  
  
Frustrated, Rose asked with growing strength in her voice, "Were we on sacred, protected ground or something? I hear that's your group's job to protect sacred territory. If we were, we're sorry. Yasmeen and I were just traveling to a village, to my friend's home. We weren't doing anything wrong. Why don't you let us go?"  
  
Finally, the man spoke. "How do you know the duties of the Medjai?"  
  
"Yasmeen told me. She's from around here."  
  
"Then if she is from the desert, your friend should have also told you the Medjai do not attack arbitrarily. Nor do we harm innocent bystanders. You have little to fear from us."  
  
Sarcasm was brewing in her mind as she again remembered how the men had threatened her with severe consequences if she hadn't given up the night before. So she shot out, "That's right, you only add unsuspecting women to your harems."  
  
The man laughed at her. Rose was startled by the sound and even more by the feel of him next to her. The cloth from his robe brushed her arm and then his fingers landed upon her cheek. She would have jerked her head away, only his touch was not harsh or repulsive. His fingers were warm and smooth upon her skin and created a tingling sensation where they brushed her face.  
  
"That was nothing more than a fib to taunt you," he told her. "We do not have such customs in my tribe. But you would make a lovely addition to any man's harem if he had one."  
  
At his words, Rose pulled her head away from his reach. Now, he frightened her for it was obvious he was noticing her as a woman and she felt at a serious disadvantage.  
  
"If it is true that your tribe has no intentions of harming me, don't touch me," Rose demanded.  
  
The man moved away at her words.  
  
"You might not be so displeased with my touch," he returned from several feet away. "After all, I am chief of my people. My position carries much power."  
  
"And that's suppose to impress me?" she retorted.  
  
"You are American," he commented. "I thought positions of power impressed Americans."  
  
"I have no interest in power. Other Americans may, but not me." After all, her father had been a very powerful man and she had experienced enough of that type of power in her life.  
  
"Then what does interest you?"  
  
"Being released," she threw out.  
  
"I am afraid I cannot do that," the man refused. "I need information from you and you will remain my.guest.until I am satisfied that you have provided me with that information."  
  
"Information? I don't know anything that would help you," Rose returned, certain this man had her confused with someone else.  
  
"Really? Then if you know nothing, why did six men have you at gunpoint last night when my men and I arrived?" he challenged.  
  
"That was something personal. I doubt it has anything to do with your duties or your people," Rose defended.  
  
"I do not believe you," the man said in a growl. Suddenly his voice was very near again and he said harshly, "There are people out here in the Sahara that I must find. Dangerous people who are trying to wield power beyond your imagination. How can I be sure you are not one of them?"  
  
"I know nothing about this place aside from the fact that I was traveling to a village to meet my friend," Rose said with a hint of desperation in her voice.  
  
"What village?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know. Ask Yasmeen. Look, all I know is that my friend lives out here in the middle of the desert and I was going to stay with him."  
  
"You left America for the Sahara?" he questioned with disbelief.  
  
"It was not by choice," Rose explained. "I." she paused because she realized her explanation would sound strange. Yet she had to tell this man what had happened to her so that he did not continue to believe she was dangerous or working with any group he may be after.  
  
"You what?" he demanded.  
  
"I woke up here in Egypt. I was hurt in America by men who work for one of the men in that group last night and my friend brought me here to escape the danger I was in."  
  
"So," the man said with triumph, "I was right in thinking you had information for me."  
  
"I have no information that will affect you," Rose insisted.  
  
"Don't you? One of the men in that group last night is a very dangerous man around Egypt. His name is Jeffreys and he has been known to have unscrupulous contacts in the criminal world. I know he has contacts with the group I am seeking out."  
  
"Is that so? Then why didn't you kill him last night along with that gunman you took out?" Rose again saw that scene unfolding and it shocked her that she was sitting there talking with the same warrior who had so skillfully killed the night before.  
  
"That gunman's bullet missed my head by five centimeters. Was I supposed to let him live to try again?" the man questioned. "And I did not kill Jeffreys last night because it was more important he live so that we might see what other contacts he has. He is a low-level thug, but his connections are always interesting and often dangerous."  
  
"But the rest of the men you could have killed. Why didn't you?" Rose asked.  
  
"Because you asked me not to. You sacrificed yourself for them and I wanted to know why. After all, it was obvious you had no desire to go along with them. Wouldn't it have been easier on you if they were all dead?"  
  
"No, it wouldn't have. My brother was in that group." **  
  
Ali was shocked by Rose's confession about her brother. He had wondered all night why Rose had protected those men when they had held her at gunpoint. And now it started to make some sense to him after hearing that her brother was among the group. But he wanted more information. Having seen Jeffreys, a man whom he was certain knew of the terrorist group they were chasing, made him wonder if perhaps Rose's and his problems were somehow related. Yet it could just be a coincidence that the group after her was just another one of Jeffreys' famous illegal connections.  
  
"Your brother? Really? I find that interesting. Why did he hold you at gunpoint then?" Ali asked, again being sure to keep his voice lower and more accented than usual so that Rose didn't suspect his true identity. He wasn't sure how long he would hide his identity from her, but he did know he had to squeeze all the information he could from her before he revealed anything.  
  
"Tony never pulled a gun on me. It was Victor's idea. My ex-fiancé. He's a horrible man. He works for my father. I've been hiding from them for five years now and they found me a few days ago in California. They sent men after me, one of them made this nasty bump on my head," Rose explained.  
  
"And how did you escape from California?" Ali asked, though he already knew the answer to that.  
  
"I'm not sure. But I'm positive my friend Ali was responsible."  
  
"Ali? The man you spoke of earlier?"  
  
Rose nodded.  
  
"Where is he now?"  
  
"Back in Cairo. Or maybe on his way to his home village by now. I'm not sure."  
  
"Some friend," Ali mocked, wanting to see Rose's reaction. "He sent you off into the desert alone?"  
  
Defensively, Rose said, "He sent me with an escort. Yasmeen knows her way around."  
  
"Yes, but in this country, women alone in the desert can be vulnerable. He should have traveled with you to protect you from desert bandits." Ali said that only because part of him did feel guilty about having sent Rose off alone. For that had allowed last night's escapade to happen. And if he had not received that phone call from Saed at the last minute, Rose would not be with him now. She would be in the custody of that vile man named Victor.  
  
"He would never send me into danger willingly. He's not like that. He's very thoughtful." Rose paused and Ali could see the frustration building in the language of her body. "And I don't know why I'm defending him to you!"  
  
Ali said nothing for a moment because he was relieved Rose held no anger over his having sent her into the Sahara with Yasmeen alone. But it wasn't like he had planned to leave them alone for the entire trip. The Medjai would have caught them by morning and followed from afar to ensure their safety. However, the discovery of Victor and his men had prompted Ali and his warriors to rush much quicker and rescue Rose and Yasmeen just in time.  
  
Now that he had Rose answering his questions and divulging information, he decided to push her further and ask more about her feelings for him. Since she had revealed nothing too in depth to him in Cairo when he had told her he loved her, he wanted to probe further now.  
  
"Does this man care for you, or is he merely a simple friend and nothing more?" Ali inquired.  
  
Rose paused and turned her head his way. He knew she was dying to see and probably curious as to why he was asking her such personal questions. And he was correct for she asked him, "Why do you care what my relationship with him is?"  
  
With a smile she could not see, Ali replied, "Because I just wanted to know how heartbroken he would be when I steal you away."  
  
Ali watched as Rose's pretty mouth turned down in a frown and then began to open in an effort to retort. But they were interrupted when Devraj entered the tent.  
  
"We have found one of the traders, my lord," he announced in their native tongue.  
  
He nodded Devraj's way, indicating he would be there in a moment, and then turned to Rose.  
  
"You will remain here. I will send in your friend to look over your injury. Do not attempt to flee. There is a guard outside the tent," Ali said with a stern voice, then left the tent to speak with the trader they had found.  
  
When they had arrived only a half-hour earlier, they had discovered the oasis, a popular stop along the desert trade route, deserted. That discovery had caused them much concern for each tent was empty and every camel gone. Ali had sent scouts out to search the nearby areas and they had returned with one man whom they often found at the oasis on their stops. He was shaken and cut and told a story that surprised no one.  
  
"These men came through two days ago. They were being led by a German. Their group was made up of Egyptians and Europeans and they were heavily armed. We had only a small group of travelers here at the time, and everyone scattered quickly when the men began making demands and taking what they wanted," the man explained.  
  
"And what did they demand?" Ali questioned.  
  
"They stole our supplies and asked about the Fortress of Aten. They said they knew it was around here." The man paused and looked up at Ali. "My lord, does the fortress even exist?"  
  
"Leave that worry to us," Ali answered. Then to his men he instructed, "See to this man's comfort and health. We will meet shortly to discuss a plan of action. The men we seek cannot be far."  
  
And Ali prayed his predictions were true, for the dangerous group was much closer to finding the Fortress of Aten than he had anticipated. **  
  
Rose heard the footfalls of another person only moments after the chief warrior had left. She was glad he was gone, for his questions had been too personal and his arrogance chilling. She wondered if he truly meant to keep her or set her free. He alluded several times to his interest in her as a woman and that scared her. Did that mean she would be another victim of an overbearing man as she had been with Victor and her father? No, it did not mean that, for now she was stronger and determined to fight for her independence.  
  
"Who's there?" Rose demanded of the new guest.  
  
"Its just me," Yasmeen answered.  
  
Rose sighed with relief and felt Yasmeen pull the blindfold from her eyes but not untie her.  
  
"Yasmeen, you'll get us in trouble," Rose chastised as the blindfold fell from her face and the bright light of the mid-morning stung her eyes.  
  
"No. It will be fine as long as you remain in the tent," Yasmeen insisted. "But I cannot untie you."  
  
"Why do they have me blindfolded and tied?"  
  
Yasmeen began looking at the wound on Rose's head, her beautiful face showing with professional concern.  
  
"Because you are a foreigner and they do not trust you," she answered. "Plus, the Medjai do not freely reveal themselves anymore. They use to. In fact, the men once wore tattoos on their faces and hands to signify their tribe and heritage, but that died a generation ago."  
  
"Why?" Rose asked, wanting to find out as much as she could about this group that held her hostage.  
  
"Because the world has changed so drastically, it is safer to be discreet so the Medjai only bear markings on their chests now and keep their faces covered when in their traditional attire."  
  
"But you've seen them," Rose commented.  
  
Yasmeen nodded and sat back on her heels, apparently satisfied with the look of Rose's bump.  
  
"I have. They know I am from a nearby village and trust I am no threat. Besides, they wanted to take advantage of my medical skills. Some of the men were wounded last night."  
  
"So does that mean I'm stuck here in this tent, blindfolded and bound forever?" Rose asked.  
  
"I don't know. I'm not sure what their chief has planned for you."  
  
"I do," Rose drawled as she rubbed at her face. She felt the grime from the desert drive and ride building upon her skin and wondered how any man could find her attractive right about now, especially the chief warrior of the Medjai. "The chief keeps insisting he plans to steal me away."  
  
Yasmeen gave a small laugh and smile.  
  
"Its not funny, Yasmeen. Last night, my ex-fiancé was ready to kidnap me as well and I'm in no mood for another man to try and push me around," Rose declared.  
  
Yasmeen handed Rose some food she had brought in and said lightly, "You may not be so disappointed, Rose. The chief of the Medjai is considered a prize. He is quite handsome."  
  
Rose swallowed a lump of fear, for she was growing concerned that even Yasmeen would be of no help to her. It seemed as if the woman was content to remain a hostage and feared nothing from the Medjai. In fact, she appeared to be right at home the way she was now casually sitting with crossed legs and sharing her food.  
  
"I don't care," Rose spat out. "I'm not going to let some desert warrior hold me captive."  
  
"Would you rather your loving Victor had you captive instead?" Yasmeen threw out.  
  
"No. I'd rather just be with Ali right now and have everything back to normal."  
  
"Normal?" Yasmeen questioned. "As in, back in California living that lie of a life you had?"  
  
"I was hiding from Victor and my father," Rose explained.  
  
With venom in her eyes suddenly, Yasmeen asked with sarcasm, "Is that so, Rosalinda? Or is it Rose? I'm confused."  
  
Rose tugged at the bindings on her wrist. Her hands moved barely, just enough for blood flow, but not enough to allow her escape.  
  
"Its Rose. I'm not Rosalinda anymore," Rose returned.  
  
"But you were?"  
  
"Yes, I was," Rose answered truthfully. "A lifetime ago when I was young and stupid. But I escaped all that and was doing just fine until father found me."  
  
"Ah, the men in your apartment!" Yasmeen said with triumph. "Those were daddy's henchmen?"  
  
Sadly, Rose nodded. "Of course. That's why they only wounded me instead of killing me. Father wants me back and what Mafia boss, Alfonse San Giovani wants, he gets." ****  
  
The sun was dipping lower, lending a slight break to its unrelenting heat. A breeze was beginning to blow in from the south and Ali feared a winter sandstorm was on the horizon. The signs were few, but he still sensed it.  
  
It had been a long afternoon of planning with his men. If it was true the terrorist group had been through the oasis only two days ago, then there was time to track them down. He had a feeling he knew the direction they were traveling and he and his men would trek that way tonight, if the weather held and his predictions about a sandstorm proved false. Otherwise, they would be forced to travel by day in the morning.  
  
With nothing left to do, now that the plans were set with his men, Ali started back for the tent he had commandeered and left Rose in. Yasmeen had been by to see him an hour ago, having left Rose after feeding and checking on her and filled him in on their conversation. It seemed as if Rose had an interesting family tree and Ali was relieved to know that her problems had nothing to do with his. Last night, when he'd seen her "acquaintances" with Jeffreys, he had briefly thought perhaps their problems had crossed paths. But it appeared as if her ex-fiancé had simply acquired Jeffreys' assistance for his task of finding Rose and nothing more.  
  
Rose's background intrigued Ali, for it was strange to discover that she came from a world-renowned mob family. That must explain her handiness with a gun! The way she had fired expertly at the Range Rover's headlight the night before still shocked him and if anyone had told him sweet, reserved Rose from California could do that, he would have thought them insane. Now, he had to begin accepting the fact that Rose was more dimensional than he'd ever realized. But it didn't change his feelings for her. She was still the same person inside, just as he was the same person inside that she'd known in California.  
  
Ali dismissed the guard who had been standing outside Rose's tent. The warrior had insisted all was quiet since Yasmeen had left and he assumed Rose must be resting. Ali hoped she was resting, for it was obvious she needed it. Her face was lined with worry and stress and after being forced to ride on his horse all night, he figured she was exhausted.  
  
Assuming too that she must be asleep, Ali walked into the tent, pushing the flap aside, and was just about to pull his veil down when something hard struck him in the stomach. He doubled over with both pain and shock, then felt another blow land on his back, causing him to lose his balance. He pitched forward and a foot on his backside aided him to the ground.  
  
By the time he was able to regain his composure and breath, he saw the tent flap rustling in the breeze that was growing outside. A quick scan of the tent revealed that Rose was gone.  
  
"Ahhh," he growled as he pushed to his feet, his abdomen still contracting painfully from the hard blow.  
  
He made his way back out into the sun just in time to see Rose swinging herself on the bare back of a nearby black horse and kicking it into a full gallop. Several of his men began rushing for their steeds, ready to pursue, when Ali held up a halting hand.  
  
"I will take care of this," Ali insisted, and grabbed the closest saddled horse for Rose had stolen his.  
  
He was positive it would not take long to run her down, for her hands were still bound, though she had pulled her blindfold down. And as for her riding skills, he was sure she would not remain upon the back of his horse for long without the assistance of a saddle, for Raja demanded the most of his rider.  
  
Yet Rose surprised him with her ability. Just as she had shot a gun expertly the night before, she handled his stallion with more precision than he. Her seat was balanced, her reining sure, and even with bound hands she controlled his horse as if it were a mere pony.  
  
They raced across the dunes for several minutes. The distance from the oasis stretched into miles and it wasn't long before Ali was following Rose into another hard-packed, rocky canyon like the one he'd found her in the night before.  
  
Ali had made up some ground on her, for he knew the terrain better, but she still managed to keep ahead of him as she maneuvered Raja around the rocks and desert scrub in the canyon. The further they descended into the canyon, the longer the evening shadows grew, making their path more difficult to see. And as evening drew nearer, the storm that Ali had feared began to make its presence known with an eerie howl to announce its arrival.  
  
"Stop!" Ali demanded as he moved within yards of Rose and her horse.  
  
"Go to hell!" Rose shouted back over her shoulder.  
  
"There are cliffs up ahead!" Ali warned, knowing the treacherous territory all too well.  
  
He noticed Rose slowed her horse slightly, but did not heed his warning until she was almost upon the drop. The canyon was a dangerous place with its jagged rocks, steep walls and precarious cliffs at the north end and Rose was about ready to discover just how dangerous it was.  
  
As soon as the drop was visible, Rose pulled up the horse and swung around, looking to backtrack. But Ali blocked the narrow path and they sat upon their winded horses, staring at each other.  
  
"Let me by," Rose demanded. "I'm not going back to the oasis with you. One of us will die first."  
  
Ali was amazed by her determination. Again, Rose was turning out to be something more than he had ever imagined. Most men would have been frightened by the discovery of her recent "abilities" but it only made Ali love her more.  
  
"It seems then, that you are at the disadvantage," Ali spoke, placing a hand upon the sword at his side.  
  
"I thought you didn't harm innocent bystanders?" Rose questioned.  
  
"You lost that title when you attacked me in my tent," he growled.  
  
Rose smiled at him with victory and taunted, "And I'll bet you've never had a woman do that to you before."  
  
It was obvious she was proud of her accomplishments and the pain in his stomach and back had yet to leave. She should be proud, for it wasn't often one bested the chief of the Medjai.  
  
"Nor shall one ever again. I have learned my lesson not to underestimate you. Now, dismount."  
  
"Don't underestimate my ability on this horse, I can ride right past you," Rose said. "And don't think you can intimidate me by flashing your sword. I know you wouldn't hurt me, otherwise you would have already."  
  
Ali frowned under the thin, black gauzy material that covered most of his face. Rose, of course, was right, but he was disappointed that she had already read that in him. He thought he had been doing a good job of acting with her, but apparently too much of his concern for her had shown through.  
  
With but one option left, Ali shouted out a command in his native tongue and his horse suddenly reared, catching Rose off guard. She slid off the back of the horse when her bound hands were unable to grip Raja's mane quickly enough and landed on her behind. Ali dismounted his horse and stood over her.  
  
"Do not underestimate my horse," he said to her in his most menacing tone. "I'm afraid you stole the wrong animal."  
  
Rose sighed and her body went limp as if she had given up. Ali began to bend down to pull her to her feet, when suddenly his feet were knocked out from under him by her swift leg-sweep.  
  
Again, Rose had bested him and he had to remember that as long as she thought he was her captor, she would continue to fight him. That meant he had to keep his guard up more than he had been doing. Reacting quickly and with new determination to keep her from fighting him further, Ali snatched Rose around the waist as she attempted to crawl away and dragged her back against him.  
  
As soon as he had hold of her, she swung an elbow back toward his face. Prepared this time, Ali caught it and gripped her arm firmly.  
  
"Enough!" he demanded next to her ear. "You will not escape."  
  
"Fine, then I'll die trying," she insisted and began to flail with surprising strength.  
  
Ali tightened his arms about her again, crushing her back to his body, rendering her immobile and knowing his hold was probably hurting her but having little choice in the matter.  
  
"You will not die trying. You will stop fighting and return with me to the oasis before the winter sandstorm reaches us," he said to her. "It is dangerous out here in the Sahara."  
  
"Its dangerous with you," Rose snapped.  
  
With humor in his tone, Ali insisted, "Only if you believe there is the danger of losing your heart to me." ****  
  
Rose was exhausted from the long ride and the physical fighting she'd done to escape the Medjai. Now, she was feeling the emotional drain of the relentless battle of wills this man was waging against her. The more he continued to express interest in her, the more distraught she became. Would she ever see Ali again? Would she ever be with the man who made her feel loved and safe instead of one who wanted to dominate?  
  
She was about ready to give up, for her energy was gone and her emotions were raw. Yet there was a small spark left inside her and she was going to find a way to resist him and try to escape again.  
  
"I seriously doubt that," Rose insulted, wondering how on earth she could fall for a man who's face she'd never seen and who kept her bound.  
  
"Ah, do not put too much stock in your ability to resist me," he said lowly, as he slipped the blindfold that was still tied around her neck, back over her eyes.  
  
Rose was certain he would simply hoist her back onto his horse and take her to the oasis. But he didn't. Instead, he pulled her against him, his hands squeezing her shoulders and kissed her.  
  
She was stunned beyond belief. One moment the man had been wrestling with her, the next he was kissing her. She didn't respond and was certain that would prompt him to stop. Her inaction only spurned him on, for his strong lips demanded more of her.  
  
If it wasn't bad enough that the man was kissing her, Rose grew more distraught when she discovered that her body began reacting to his kiss. Her insides heated and her lips eventually moved slowly against his. She felt the soft, bristly facial hair that he obviously wore, brush against her chin and she wanted to know more about his looks, but was unable to for her sight had been taken away from her.  
  
She wondered why her body felt the urge to kiss him back. Was it her exhaustion or the fact that she was finding his kiss to feel familiar? Yes, that was it. His kiss reminded her of someone and that was the only reason she felt any desire.  
  
At that thought, Rose turned her head away, placed her bound hands upon his solid chest to push him back and said, "Don't."  
  
The man chuckled for a moment as he pulled back, but kept his hands on her shoulders.  
  
"Why did you have second thoughts and decide to stop kissing me back?" the man asked.  
  
"Because I realized I don't like you," she returned.  
  
"Or maybe you just happened to remember your Ali?" the man guessed.  
  
Feeling the need to explain herself to him, she said, "It's not exactly like that between us. Not yet."  
  
"Not yet? Why is this man so slow to take you?"  
  
"Because unlike you, he happens to be a gentleman."  
  
The man's hands ran down her arms and she felt a chill travel in the wake of his touch.  
  
"There is no advantage to being a gentleman in the desert. Here, we claim what we want quickly."  
  
"Then find something else to claim and leave me alone," Rose insisted as she raised her hands to pull her blindfold down. Now would be the perfect opportunity to see the man's face for she was positive it was uncovered. His hands, however, would not allow her the pleasure and she was thwarted in her attempt.  
  
"I will not and cannot leave you alone. Unlike your Ali, I will not abandon you in the desert. You are mine now, and I must protect you and keep you with me."  
  
Throwing out her own chuckle, Rose asked, "Don't you mean keep me bound and blindfolded?"  
  
"And perhaps gagged," the man added roughly.  
  
Rose knew she was pushing his patience, but his insistence to not let her go was frightening her.  
  
"Go ahead, at least it would keep your lips off me," she insulted.  
  
Immediately, she regretted her words, for the man again crushed her to him and kissed her. There was no gentleness, no coaxing like before. His lips demanded from hers and again she hated herself for kissing him back.  
  
As soon as she began to respond, he broke the kiss off and asked, "If you loathe me so, why do you kiss me in return?"  
  
Trembling because the kiss had made her want more and reminded her of the only time her lips had touched Ali's, Rose replied shakily, "Because your kiss reminds me of someone."  
  
"Who? Victor or Ali?"  
  
Rose remembered Victor's words to the warrior chief the night before about how he had "had" Rose first. The warrior had soundly knocked him for his remark and Rose couldn't imagine ever wanting to kiss a man back who reminded her of Victor. No, this man surprisingly did not remind her of Victor, only of Ali.  
  
"Ali," she said on a whisper. "Victor can rot in the Sahara as far as I'm concerned."  
  
"I would think I reminded you of Victor," the man declared. "After all, he does sound like the kind of man who takes what he wants. Your Ali, on the other hand, seems afraid to take anything he wants."  
  
"And why do you say that?" Rose challenged.  
  
"Because you only refer to him as your friend. I do not want to be your friend, woman."  
  
"Good, because I don't want to be your friend either," Rose returned.  
  
"And if this Ali had any strength as a man, he would have claimed you long ago," the man insisted.  
  
If Rose had known the desert warrior would taunt her this way, she never would have mentioned Ali in the first place. Coming to Ali's defense, though he was not there to need defending, Rose said, "Its not in his nature to just take things. He's a sweet man. He's not the kind who goes running around in the desert slashing down gunmen. He has respect for things and people."  
  
As Rose spoke, she remembered though how Ali had changed when they'd arrived in Egypt. Something hard had emerged in his personality and he'd seemed like a different man to her. Not so different that she was frightened away, but different enough that she'd been more intrigued by his masculinity than she ever had before.  
  
"It would seem it's not in his nature to do much of anything," the warrior mocked.  
  
"So he's not some desert warrior chief. Does it matter?" Rose asked.  
  
"Out here, it does," he replied.  
  
"Yes, out here in the middle of nowhere where any man just takes what he wishes," Rose retorted.  
  
Suddenly she felt the wind blow around them with a hard blast. It had increased so quickly.  
  
"Not any man," the warrior replied with confidence. "Only strong and dauntless men." He was now pushing her forward. "The storm has almost arrived. We have wasted too much time with your foolish games. We must return quickly." **** 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
In the distance he could see it. The storm announced its arrival with a spectacle of dark clouds rushing in from the west before it was even felt or heard. Victor cursed the heavens for the hundredth time that day and kicked the solid tire of their disabled Range Rover causing him to shout out another oath from the pain.  
  
"Damn it all to hell!" he cried. "Can this day get any worse?"  
  
"Yeah," Jeffreys interjected, "I still can't reach anyone on the satellite phone."  
  
Victor bit his lip and watched as Tony smirked. The past twenty-four hours had been nothing but a disaster and Victor was so incensed that he was positive he would kill both Rosalinda and that damned dark warrior who took her just as soon as he found them. And with the way Tony was looking at him now, he just might finish him off as well.  
  
"With the looks of that sandstorm blowing in, I'd say I won't be able to reach anyone on this phone for a while either," Jeffreys said as he put the device back in its case. The phone had been damaged the night before by the Medjai, but not to the point where Jeffreys and his men couldn't fix it. Now that they had it operational, the weather was disrupting their link.  
  
"Well, just how long do these sand storms last?" Victor asked.  
  
Jeffreys shrugged. "Depends on the storm. It could blow over in a few minutes, or it could last all night. We'll have to wait and see."  
  
Just then, they felt the first gust of wind and the rising clouds of dust in the near distance told them they would have to move to the shelter of the vehicle soon. The two remaining men of Jeffreys' clan of thugs came around the corner from where they had buried their dead compatriot and all five men entered the shelter of their vehicle.  
  
Though a sandstorm was engulfing the desert, it did nothing to diminish the heat of the day and Victor cursed again the stench permeating the vehicle's interior. Five sweaty, smelly men in one small space baking in the hundred degree temperature was proving to be worse torture for Victor than the bruised jaw and bloody shirt he'd received the night before and his anger and need for revenge was growing tenfold. And to top it off, Jeffreys' two men wouldn't quit babbling in that damned, unintelligible language of theirs.  
  
"Shut them up, Jeffreys, or I'll shut them up with a bullet each," Victor demanded.  
  
Jeffreys said something to them as the men sat in the back seat with him, then he leaned forward between the two front seats and explained, "They want to quit on us."  
  
"Why's that?" Victor asked.  
  
"Those men who attacked last night.the Medjai.they are greatly feared by the locals," Jeffreys relayed.  
  
"Why? They're nothing but a group of desert bandits on horseback. How dangerous can they be?" Victor inquired.  
  
"Local myth speaks of them as being the direct descendants of the pharaohs' personal guards. It is their job to protect the ruins and secrets of ancient Egypt."  
  
"And are we intruding on any ruins or ancient secrets?" Victor interrupted to ask sarcastically.  
  
"Not that I'm aware of," Jeffreys answered. "But they do have your woman now and getting her back will prove to be most difficult."  
  
The men in the back seat spoke out again and Jeffreys listened, then added, "Local myth speaks of the Medjai possessing special powers given to them by the gods. These men are afraid now, Victor, and I fear we won't be able to keep them with us after last night."  
  
Victor's temper was flaring, his blood was reaching the boiling point. All he needed on top of losing Rosa last night and getting his shirt dirtied was a mutiny. But before he could pull his gun and threaten the two men who were staring at him wide-eyed and fearful, Tony decided to speak up.  
  
"This group, the Medjai--would this have anything to do with that warning the old man in Cairo gave us?" Tony asked.  
  
Jeffreys looked guilty for a long moment, his thin face pulling a frown of regret.  
  
"Yes," he finally answered. "But like I said then, it is only a rumor. I have never seen a Medjai warrior until last night. I didn't even know they really existed," Jeffreys confessed.  
  
The two men in the back seat said something quickly and loudly, interrupting and Victor turned abruptly in his seat and yelled, "Shut up! Just shut the hell up or I'll shut you up myself." He held his chrome Walther PPK, the only weapon left after last night's raid, at the ready and the two Egyptians sunk back in their seats. One of them suddenly added something quietly then looked out the window into the dark sea of twirling sand.  
  
"What'd he say?" Victor demanded of Jeffreys.  
  
"He said he would rather face your gun than the Medjai. It seems that their leader was just recently assassinated and it is rumored that the Medjai are seeking revenge. My men will not cross the Medjai again. They are sure a bullet from your gun would be a more just death than what the Medjai will have planned if we pursue them."  
  
"Hell," Victor mumbled under his breath as he clicked the safety for his gun back on and placed it in the waistband of his pants. "Just let the cowards go then, Jeffreys. We don't need men who are frightened of a few damned masked horsemen. Meanwhile, get on that satellite phone as soon as possible and get us out of here!"  
  
"Yes, sir," Jeffreys replied in his accented voice and went back to working the phone, praying a signal would go through soon. This American he was working for was a hot-tempered man and Jeffreys wanted no part of ending up at the wrong end of this man's temper. **  
  
Sand stung ruthlessly as it blew against her exposed skin with a force Rose never knew wind could produce. She'd grown up in Chicago, the "windy city", but even that had not prepared her for the vengeance of the mighty Sahara's winds.  
  
They'd ridden barely for five minutes before the swirling sand became too much to bear, yet Rose had no idea where they were for she was still blindfolded. This time, however, she cherished the covering for it kept her eyes safe from the tiny grains that were stinging the exposed skin of her arms that stuck out from her plain gray T-shirt. Trying to avoid the smart upon her face, Rose turned her head away from the direction of the wind and tucked her face close to her right shoulder. The warrior who rode behind her upon the horse then surprised her by pulling her face closer to his shoulder and shielding it from the wind and sand with his hand and the arm of his robe.  
  
This tender care the man sometimes took with her shocked her to no end. He was an enigma-fierce one moment, gentle the next. And for the life of Rose, she was dying to see what he looked like! Was it their culture to remain covered at all times, or was it merely the fact that she was an outsider that prompted this man to hide himself from her?  
  
Rose chastised herself as she allowed the warrior to provide covering for her face. What did she care what the man looked like or why he hid behind his veil? She was his prisoner and she had no intentions of ever liking the man or giving in to him. And she would continue to lay in wait for another opportunity to flee and find Ali, a man she could truly trust.  
  
"We must stop," the warrior suddenly shouted above the din of the storm. "It is too much for the horses."  
  
Rose said nothing for she agreed that the storm was too intense. But stop where? She wondered just where there was shelter in this rocky canyon for them and their horses.  
  
As if reading her thoughts, the man then said, "There is a cave nearby. We shall be there in a few moments."  
  
True to his word, the warrior stopped the horse and dismounted then pulled Rose off the animal. Taking her hand he tugged her along behind him.  
  
Rose balked at the feel of his hand clutching hers. His fingers were long and strong and not nearly as callused and coarse as she would have expected from a desert man. And his fingers immediately interlaced themselves with her fingers in a familiar fashion that caused her no disgust at his touch, only curiosity.  
  
He led her blindfolded for only a short while, until Rose felt the winds dissipate and the sound of the horses' steps following behind echo around them. It was then that she realized she was in the cave.  
  
The warrior halted and pulled her blindfold from her eyes. "You will need to see in order to keep your footing," he explained. "But do not be foolish and attempt to escape again or I will bind your feet as well."  
  
Rose frowned at him again seeing he had not removed his veil from his face and said nothing for she had no intentions of escaping during the dreadful storm.  
  
He brushed by her and stopped next to the saddled horse. He removed a saddlebag from the horse then returned.  
  
"This way," he instructed, pointing in the direction of a dark narrow path.  
  
Rose glanced around her surroundings. They were in a high, wide chamber obviously large enough for the two horses and two humans. She wondered why they needed to venture any farther into the cave.  
  
"What's wrong with right here?" she asked.  
  
"This way," he again demanded, clicking on a small flashlight.  
  
He never answered her question and had there not been a fierce storm just outside the entrance to the cave, she would have refused to move a step. Looking at the darkness that had crept into the day, Rose decided it better to follow the man than stand there and argue.  
  
He led her down a short, rocky path, all the while keeping his hand upon her arm to tug her along. After only a few yards, the path opened up into another chamber. It was dark and dank and smelled of earth.  
  
"What's this place?" she inquired as the warrior released her arm and moved to the left with his flashlight.  
  
Rose's words bounced around them in the room and she thought the echo lent an eerie feel to the atmosphere of the chamber.  
  
The man again didn't answer her question and Rose suddenly saw a match flare in his hand. Not a moment later, a torch was burning and the chamber was illuminated with light.  
  
"You still use those things?" Rose asked with sarcasm as she nodded toward the flame burning on a stick that was stuck in the hard-packed clay floor.  
  
The man only stared at her and his dark eyes gave nothing away. Rose was just about to give up on hearing him speak when he suddenly answered, "The torch will serve us better than the small flashlight. I will build you a fire in a while for heat. This cave grows cold when night falls."  
  
"We'll be here that long?" Rose inquired as she glanced around the chamber. It was fairly large and round, its walls smooth rock. Upon the walls were murals, hieroglyphs and flowing words written in Arabic. The chamber was an enchanting place and Rose found herself wandering around looking closely at the words she could not read and the art that told an ancient story.  
  
Forgetting her question, Rose reached her bound hands out and touched the cold wall in front of her. There was a list of sorts upon the wall and a portrait of a woman's veiled face, showing only her eyes. They were ice blue eyes and that intrigued Rose for she was positive Egyptian women were not known for possessing such light features.  
  
There was a sound of footsteps behind her and Rose spun around quickly. Her gaze landed on a large knife and she gasped as she saw it wielded in the warrior's hands. What was this dark man planning on doing with her? Had he kidnapped her and fought with her only to bring her here and kill her? She shrank back against the wall too shocked to do much else-even to fight.  
  
"No, don't," Rose pleaded with a whisper.  
  
The man remained silent as he reached out and grabbed her bound hands. Rose began to struggle, fear gripping her soul until she felt the ropes slide from her wrists. She stared awestruck at the man's eyes as he replaced the knife in its sheath on his belt.  
  
"What? You thought I had other intentions?" he asked roughly.  
  
Rose rubbed at her wrists, relieved to be untied.  
  
"No," she said, "I just didn't expect you to untie me."  
  
"You will not run again," he said with confidence. "You are safer with me than in that storm. But if you do not believe me.go ahead, brave the Sahara. I dare you."  
  
Rose considered his dare for an instant. However, the angry howl of the wind outside the cave that filtered into her ears was more daunting than the dark gaze of the warrior. Remaining with him seemed the safer decision. Yet she wasn't going to allow him to know that, so she turned away from his gaze and asked nonchalantly, "So, what is this place?"  
  
"It is a cave," he taunted from behind.  
  
Rose frowned but she wasn't angered by his taunt, only shocked for hearing humor come from his accented voice was strange.  
  
"I can see that for myself," she replied dryly. "But what is this place?"  
  
The humor now gone from his voice, the warrior answered, "It's a cave of prophecies. The entire history of the Medjai is recorded on these walls and the prophecies of the future are also recorded here so that every leader of the Medjai understands his duties and the possible dangers that await him."  
  
The man moved forward and his long fingers traced a word written in Arabic.  
  
"My great-grandfather," he said, then his fingers moved to the next word. "My grandfather, Ardeth." His fingers continued to find words on the wall. "My father, Aarif, then me." His fingers were on the name next to the portrait of the woman then dropped to the last name on the wall, "And this will be my son, Adan." The man turned and stared hard at her face. His eyes were unyielding. "Our son."  
  
**  
  
The cave may have been dimly lit, but Ali still saw the blood drain from Rose's face at his words. It had been years since he'd ventured into this cave. In fact, it had been almost a decade. He remembered the day clearly, for that was when he had read his fate upon these walls and seen the eyes of the woman that the prophecy had said he would marry and conceive his heirs with. That was the day he and Yasmeen had gone their separate ways because it had been made clear to him that she was not his future.  
  
But Rose was.  
  
Now Ali realized why Rose's eyes had always seemed so familiar to him. It had taken until now to remember that day in this cave when his future had been revealed to him and he knew now that chance meeting two years ago in the lobby of their office building had not been chance after all, but destiny.  
  
"Wh.what?" Rose asked, stammering on her question.  
  
"It is written upon these walls. This is your portrait that has been foreseen," Ali explained calmly.  
  
"Foreseen by whom?" Rose questioned back.  
  
"By the soothsayers of our tribe. They are elders who know much. They have lasted for several generations, outlived three chiefs and."  
  
Rose interrupted, a fire lit in her blue eyes. "And I'd chance to say they're a bit too old and senile to be making credible predictions," she snapped. "That's not me on this wall and there is no way I'm marrying you and having children with you. For heaven's sake, I don't even know what you look like!"  
  
Ali wanted desperately to reveal himself to her. Yet he knew that she would overreact. He had to wait until they were back in his village and he was himself again and able to explain his history and duty to her in a more serene environment where she would hopefully accept and understand who he truly was.  
  
"You will. Someday," he said. "For now, just know that your future is already planned for you."  
  
"Is that a threat?" she asked.  
  
"It is a promise," he returned.  
  
He could see Rose shaking. It was either from the news he'd just dropped upon her or from the dampness of the cave. Unbuckling his sword belt, Ali pulled off his outer robe and wrapped it around her shoulders for warmth.  
  
"It is a promise of our future together," he continued. "You will be my wife and you will bear the next chief of the Medjai. It is already written into the fabric of time and you cannot deny your fate."  
  
"Oh really?" Rose asked harshly. Then the hard look upon her pretty face diminished slightly as she realized he'd given her his robe. Her eyes raked over him clad in his dark shirt, black military style cargo pants and combat boots, stopping only long enough to obviously take in the handgun holstered at his side. Her gaze then quickly returned to his face and her eyes were not nearly as narrowed and angry looking as they'd been a few moments earlier.  
  
"I'll have you know," she began after a short pause, "that my future was written for me once before and I escaped it. Don't think I won't find a way to get away from you too."  
  
"Yes, you did such a good job of escaping your future that it followed you to Egypt and nearly kidnapped you last night," Ali drawled.  
  
Rose glowered at him from under her fine brow that was smudged with two days worth of desert.  
  
"I will never go back to my life with my father and Victor. They used me and I won't be used again. And that also includes being used to bear some heir to your throne," she hissed.  
  
"You would not be used, you would be cherished. Your position among my tribe would carry much weight and respect as my wife."  
  
Angrily, Rose returned, "Like I told you earlier, I have no interest in positions of power. And I have no interest in some desert warrior like you!"  
  
Her words stung him even though it was illogical that they should. Rose did not know to whom she was arguing. As far as she was concerned, he truly was just an unknown man who'd taken her hostage. In fact, Ali knew he should have been ecstatic that she was denying him so vehemently for it meant she was not a woman who could be easily molded and persuaded. She was strong. She was stubborn. And she was so incredibly beautiful and radiant standing there in the bouncing light of the torch with her defiant eyes that he surely would have grabbed her up and kissed her senseless had she known his real identity.  
  
Yet doing so was cruel. He'd kissed her twice after their struggle near the cliffs and taking advantage of her captivity was unfair of him. So even though he admired her beauty and strength now, he would not touch her.  
  
Instead, he steeled his nerves and argued back, "I am an educated man. You might find that you are surprised by all that I actually am."  
  
When her ice blue eyes only gazed at him with more contempt, Ali explained, "My people, my tribe, have been guardians of the desert and all her secrets for thousands of years. Since the time of the pharaohs. And even in this modern age, we continue to guard her secrets, for there are still those who threaten to reveal them."  
  
Rose pulled the black robe tightly about her shoulders and her eyes appeared to relax at his story. The chill in the cave, however, had increased and Ali decided that if he built a fire and continued talking, Rose might actually relax further.  
  
Moving to the fire pit in the middle of the cave and seeing that there was still wood left from the last person who'd visited, Ali began lighting a fire. He continued talking as he did.  
  
"In fact, there is a very dangerous group who is currently making their way toward an ancient landmark-the Fortress of Aten," Ali explained.  
  
"If that's true, shouldn't you be out there tracking them down instead of in here proposing marriage to a perfect stranger?" Rose asked sarcastically.  
  
"You are not a perfect stranger," he insisted.  
  
"Oh, that's right. My picture is on your wall," she snapped back.  
  
This was a new side to Rose, Ali realized. He'd never heard her so sarcastic and argumentative. Then again, when they'd been friends in California, he had not taken her captive and given her cause to be so incorrigible.  
  
"You mock our tribe?" Ali asked with forced coldness. It was an attitude he had been taught to express since childhood. Knowing he was going to one day become leader of their people, he had mimicked everything his father and grandfather had said and done. And he remembered they had both been experts at keeping a cool, unaffected façade when necessary.  
  
"Not your tribe, just your crazy ideas about us," Rose explained. "But since you brought it up, isn't it a bit antiquated what you do? I mean, running around the desert cloaked in black like Zoro seems almost ridiculous."  
  
"Perhaps to you," he acknowledged. He paused, how did he explain to Rose the mission and importance of their tribe? To a modern American, it no doubt did seem like some Hollywood creation, but the threat to the world that ancient Egypt posed was nothing Hollywood had created. It was real. It was deadly. And if he failed on this mission, the entire world would suddenly realize just how deadly.  
  
"But you must realize, the Medjai are not a bunch of silly men in costumes," he continued.  
  
"You understood my Zoro reference. You must know American culture then," Rose commented.  
  
"Of course. I know the ways of many cultures and I am well traveled. I told you, I am an educated man."  
  
"Then if you're such an educated and cultured man, why the disguise and the horses and the swords?" she inquired.  
  
"We are a history-bound people," he answered. "Our swords, our horses, our dress signify that. And we have found that horses are much easier to use for our purposes. If we raced about the Sahara in noisy vehicles or helicopters, we'd be easy to spot, easy to see with a variety of technological sources. And as for the disguises.we once showed our faces proudly for all to see. We even marked them with symbols and words of strength and honor. But technology and mass media have caused us to abandon that tradition. Now we are covert-secretive. People know little about us and we reveal ourselves to no one outside our tribe."  
  
"So I guess that means I'll never see your face-even after we're married," Rose drawled.  
  
Ali smiled under his veil and had to hold back a laugh for Rose's sarcasm was tickling.  
  
"Ah, then you are coming to accept your inevitable future?" he prodded.  
  
She glared at him as she moved next to the fire he'd successfully built. "That was sarcasm, not acceptance. If you haven't figured it out already, I'm not some pliable female who'll do what any man tells me to do. And I don't plan on changing for anyone. And since, I'm sure, your culture doesn't want its females that way, you might as well lose the idea about any marriage between the two of us."  
  
Rose was certainly strong-willed when she put her mind to it, Ali observed. Again, he was seeing her inner strength emerge quickly and finding that his best friend was quite different than she'd seemed to him back in California.  
  
"Our people have led a harsh existence for thousands of years. All of our women are strong and strong-willed. That does not dissuade me," he answered.  
  
"Then surely what my ex-fiancé said to you last night will," Rose insisted as she squatted by the fire on the other side of the stone ring. She pulled the black robe tighter about her shoulders and Ali saw the weariness in her eyes and heard it in the tone of her voice. She was quickly losing her fight and her words were no longer argumentative, but spoken softly. "Its true, I'm not pristine."  
  
"That is of little consequence to me," he returned. "I too am not entirely pristine myself."  
  
**  
  
Rose saw a sparkle in his brown eyes and was certain the man was smiling at her under that veil he still wore. His insistence that she was to be his bride was turning into more of a taunt than the threat it had been minutes before. This warrior was an interesting man. One moment he was wielding a sword and cutting down an enemy, the next he was taunting her for his own pleasure. He was complex, dangerous and perhaps a bit charming. Perhaps.  
  
"You're taunting me now," Rose said. "I never would have guessed a desert chief would have a sense of humor."  
  
"I am attempting to make you feel more comfortable," he said simply.  
  
Rose stood abruptly because the last thing she wanted to feel was comfortable around this dangerous man.  
  
"That's very hospitable of you, but know this-when that little storm out there is over, I will escape. And it doesn't matter to me how 'comfortable' you make me feel in the meantime."  
  
She'd said the magic words. She watched as the man's eyes darkened to the color of coal. He possessed very expressive eyes and though she could see nothing else of his visage, his eyes told her enough.  
  
"You will not escape," he said lowly but with much force behind his words. "I will not allow it."  
  
Rose felt a shiver race down her spine and the small hairs at the back of her neck tingled with a strange energy. Those words sounded almost exactly like Victor's words to her just before she had decided to flee Chicago and her family. He'd been a controlling, abusive boyfriend and she'd possessed enough self-esteem at the young age of twenty-three to know that she deserved better. So she'd told her father she was not going to marry Victor. That plan had backfired for Alfonse had wanted the marriage desperately and refused to allow her to back out. With few other options, Rose had decided to flee. Tony had assisted her and for the past five years she'd grown more determined than any woman that she would never find herself in another desperate situation with a man again.  
  
Yet here she was, the captive of a dangerous desert chief who believed in fairy tales written upon stone walls and who was determined to make her his possession.  
  
Well, it wouldn't happen. Not again.  
  
"Why you pompous, arrogant." she began to insult only to be cut off by the warrior who threw a hand up to halt her onslaught of words.  
  
"Enough, woman! I will hear no more arguments," he insisted.  
  
"The name's Rose," Rose corrected coolly.  
  
"I thought it was Rosa."  
  
"It was. At one time. But when I escaped Victor and my father years before, I had to change my name. Rose suits me much better," she explained, finding that her anger over his outburst only moments ago had quickly left her. It was irritating to discover she could not keep up the shield of her anger around this man. After all, he had kidnapped her, held her captive and kissed her without her permission. She should be furious to no end. But for some reason, she was not. Her anger came and went swiftly.  
  
"Rose suits you," he acknowledged with a quiet voice. "It is a name with much beauty, just as you possess much beauty."  
  
Rose hesitated and felt a slight blush invade her cheeks. Such a compliment was unexpected and she stared at him across that fire for several moments before saying, "I appreciate the kind words, but compliments won't win me over."  
  
"I don't doubt that," he answered, "but in time, you will concede to me. Once you learn I am an honorable man, and that I intend you no harm, you will concede."  
  
Rose said nothing, for it was a losing battle to try and tell this warrior she would never agree to his insane fantasy. Better to allow him to believe he could one day win her over, than to stand there in the dank cave arguing that she never would. His insistence was unyielding and it was becoming quite clear to her that he would never acquiesce on that point. The more she argued, the more insistent he became. For now, she would relent and allow him to think he was gaining ground. It was the most prudent course of action.  
  
After two full minutes of muteness, the man's voice spoke lowly. "You did not argue back, my love, what are you plotting?"  
  
Unable to stop the small smile that pulled at her mouth over his question, Rose answered, "Nothing. But please, let's lose the endearments. I am, after all, still your captive and I'd rather not be called your anything."  
  
"Fair enough," he agreed. "I will call you only by your name.for now.but you must agree to talk with me. I will not have you standing quietly by, your brain planning an escape."  
  
With a shrug, Rose moved back toward the fire and sat by it. The dampness in the cave was chilling her quickly and her head still throbbed. She'd relent and grant the warrior his request because she had no more strength to continue on with defiance.  
  
"Fine, I'll play your game," she said. "Talk away."  
  
The man remained mute, but his eyes never left her face. She was about to respond with a sarcastic remark, when suddenly an alien sound echoed through the chamber of the cave. Rose jumped, but the warrior didn't even flinch. Then with much nonchalance, he reached down to his belt and removed a small satellite phone. He spoke for only a few moments in his native tongue, then clicked off the phone and returned it to his gear belt.  
  
"You carry swords and ride horses, yet you have a mobile phone," Rose commented. "Odd."  
  
"We too make use of modern technology," the man explained simply.  
  
"And who called you in the middle of this storm?" she inquired, certain he would tell her to mind her own business for he seemed to be a very private man who's every word was planned in advance.  
  
He surprised her by answering. "My men at the oasis. They were worried that I had not yet returned. They thought perhaps you had bested me," he said with amusement in his tone. "But that will never happen again."  
  
"You are arrogant," Rose observed.  
  
"It is an inherited trait," he replied. "I will not apologize for it."  
  
"Inherited," Rose repeated. "From the men on the wall?" She threw her hand back toward the painted cave wall.  
  
The man nodded. "A long line of proud men, who have served the Sahara well," he said. "We have protected humanity from some horrible wraths and we have earned the right to be a little arrogant."  
  
"Wraths?" Rose asked back with a disbelieving tone. "Like what?"  
  
"Ah, you westerners do not believe in the mystical. You probably think we are mad men who run about the desert playing sword games for fun. But what you do not realize is Egypt hides many dangers that are unseen by the modern world. Dangers that most would never believe and that no American could ever comprehend."  
  
Again thinking this man lived in a fantasy world better served in a place like Disneyland, Rose suggested, "So tell me just what type of spooky terrors Egypt hides."  
  
Standing abruptly, the man stalked away from the fire and snapped, "You mock me, woman!"  
  
"Rose," she corrected again.  
  
He looked her way but did not apologize for his outburst. Instead, he began speaking of the mysteries of Egypt.  
  
"Egypt is steeped in dangers incomprehensible to people like you," he explained. "Your world believes every question to the universe has already been answered and that nothing on this earth is a mystery. But let me tell you that Egypt is. The pharaohs and gods of ancient times left behind curses and evils and riddles that must never be uncovered or they'll pose a danger to the world we know."  
  
It was obvious to Rose by the tone of the man's voice that he believed in what he said. His words were convincing, his manner persuading, and Rose found herself curious.  
  
"Such as?" she asked seriously.  
  
"Such as creatures that are immortal and armies of sand that could conquer in the name of evil. Or temples and fortresses that have the power to catapult people back in time where they could change the past and control the future."  
  
Rose thought she heard a hint of anxiety enter his tone as he talked about dangerous temples and fortresses and time travel, but she couldn't be certain for he continued on quickly, his voice echoing in a low tone throughout the cavern.  
  
"Many of these hazards have nearly been unlocked in ages past. My grandfather once battled a creature reborn from the dead that sucked the life force from people and brought the ten plagues upon Egypt. And my father, I have just recently discovered that he was killed by the use of a power that allows man to see into a realm of combined space and time. A realm that gives one the gift of sight beyond what is in front of them."  
  
"You mean a power like your Medjai prophets?" Rose interrupted to ask, finding herself drawn into the warrior's story.  
  
"In a way, yes. But this power is only given to the one who controls the Staff of the Sun," he answered. "And it is much more powerful than our Medjai oracles. Our elders can only see what is written for our tribe, not what is written for the world. This staff allows its holder to see anything the holder wishes and unfortunately, I have just been informed that it is being used by a very dangerous group of men who want to find the Fortress of Aten."  
  
"The Fortress of what?"  
  
"Aten," he said. "Or perhaps you have heard the name Aton. It has been translated both ways. He was the sun-disk god of ancient Egypt and the pharaoh, Amenhotep, believed he was the only true god. In fact, Amenhotep believed it so deeply, he changed his name to Akhenaton, 'spirit of Aten,' and tried to force Egyptians to worship only one god."  
  
"But ancient Egyptians were polytheistic," Rose interjected.  
  
"They were indeed. But Akhenaton was certain Aten was the only true god. He was so certain he moved the capital city from Thebes and even attempted to erase the plural of the word 'god' from their language."  
  
"Was he successful?" Rose questioned.  
  
"Not entirely. He met with much resistance, even though he was the pharaoh. But apparently he was on to something for the fortress he built wields much power."  
  
"The Fortress of Aten? What is it exactly?" Rose was asking questions because his history lesson was sounding less like some bizarre fantasy and more like a plausible story. It was obvious from the conviction in his deep voice that he truly believed the myth of this fortress.  
  
"It was a secret burial temple built by Akhenaton. When Akhenaton died, he was supposed to be buried in the royal tomb like every other pharaoh. But because of his monotheistic beliefs, he did not want to be buried like the other pharaohs. Secretly, he had the Fortress of Aten constructed in a great cavernous canyon and it is said that his mummy was placed there."  
  
"And that makes this fortress so powerful? Because some mummy is there?"  
  
"No, his mummy is not what brings power to the fortress. What brings it power is Aten. The history states that Aten was so pleased by Akhenaton's beliefs that he granted the power to alter time and history to the controller of the fortress in the hopes that all of Egypt would be changed to worship only Aten."  
  
"And when this god granted that power to the fortress, did it even consider that someone might use it to alter more than just Egypt's religious beliefs?" Rose inquired.  
  
"Your question would imply that you are finding my story to have some truth," the man commented.  
  
Rose shrugged. "Not entirely. But I do come from a family steeped in history and mystery. Perhaps I can relate a bit."  
  
"Let me assure you, Rose, what I have told you is very true."  
  
"If that's so, then why hasn't your tribe used the power of this fortress for the betterment of humanity?" she asked sarcastically.  
  
"I never said my tribe's mission in life was to better all of humanity. Our mission is to protect the secrets of the desert. And we are honorable. We will never use the powers of Egypt for our own cause or to change the world. It would be wrong," he explained.  
  
It was obvious this man knew the difference between right and wrong. If that was the case, then why was she still his prisoner?  
  
Rose remained quiet while she considered this. Victor had not known the difference between right and wrong. To him, killing was a sport and she'd been a prize. This man didn't strike her as being as ruthless as Victor, but he definitely was not as kindhearted and tender as Ali. He was a breed all unto himself.  
  
"What are you thinking, my darling?" the warrior suddenly asked.  
  
Rose jumped at the sound of the endearment. Ali had called her that too the last time she'd seen him and in that instant her heart broke. She missed Ali horribly, she realized. And for the first time since this ordeal began, she doubted her ability to ever find him again.  
  
With new determination, Rose glanced to her left and saw the swords the warrior had left on the cave floor when he'd removed his robe. In one quick move, Rose pulled a curved sword from its sheath and stood.  
  
"I was thinking it was time you let me go," she demanded.  
  
He looked at her across the fire, neither speaking, nor moving.  
  
"Now!" she shouted and the echo of her voice startled her.  
  
"It sounds as if the storm has relented some," he finally spoke up. "Perhaps you could find your way." In one smooth action, the warrior had drawn his handgun and the barrel of his Glock was aimed at her.  
  
"Or perhaps not," he added with a shrug before he pulled the trigger.  
  
Rose would have screamed but she didn't have time. The bullet exploded from the muzzle with a flash and the crack of the gun rang loudly in the cave. A fraction of a second later, the bullet connected with the sword's blade and it was ripped from her hand. She stood there, stunned beyond belief at what had just happened, and glanced down at the sword as it lay on the ground at her feet.  
  
"I would prefer to have you remain here," the man then said as he holstered his gun.  
  
Rose had been through entirely too much for any person to handle sanely. With only one option left, she bolted for the exit to the cave only to be halted when the warrior agilely jumped to his feet and beat her to her mark.  
  
"Like I said, I would prefer you to remain here," he growled lowly, as his large hand wrapped around her upper arm and dragged her to him.  
  
Rose's bravery broke in that instant and all she could do was cry. She'd handled herself with much composure and nerve until this last scene and she had no strength left with which to fight. Shattered, she fell into the warrior's embrace and sobbed uncontrollably. She was surprised when he held her to him tightly and whispered soothingly to her in his native language. And she was shocked that he never taunted her for her weakness. ** 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
  
Oscar Mann knew the course of history. He'd witnessed it through the stories of his father and the other men of the Third Reich who'd escaped the Allied Forces in the mid-1940s and found refuge in Argentina. He understood that his quest was one that had been beyond the grasp of other ambitious men. Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Napoleon Bonaparte and Adolf Hitler had all attempted what he was sure he'd win. World domination was within his grasp and his name would top those in the history books for Oscar Mann was not only certain he'd prevail, but positive he'd rewrite history in the process.  
  
He was positive, because unlike the great military leaders of Caesar and Napoleon, he would not rely solely on military strategy. And unlike Hitler whose doctrine of hate and control had nearly won him all of Europe, he was not interested in rhetoric. What he was going to use was a power beyond that which mankind had ever witnessed. He was going to wield the power of the Fortress of Aten.  
  
Granted, if his father and his other fascist cronies were alive right now, they'd be chastising him for chasing fairy tales. Yet through his studies, Oscar had learned that their own Fuhrer had always kept an open mind about such endeavors into the mystical and he had actually sent historians down to Egypt during the Second World War to do further research. Lucky for the world that Hitler had uncovered little, otherwise everyone would be speaking German today under the shadow of a black swastika. And lucky for Oscar that the Nazi regime never found the Fortress of Aten for it meant Oscar Mann would finally achieve what his father's Nazis never accomplished and that was to control the world.  
  
His motivation was simple. He was greedy. He had no fanatical doctrine he wished to impose upon the rest of the world. He was simply an egomaniac who wanted all the toys to himself.  
  
Growing up listening to his father and his exiled compatriots Oscar had realized at a very young age that in order to win the world, one couldn't impose their beliefs upon the entire population and expect them to obey. So instead of forcing people into his fold, he was planning on changing history to his benefit, compiling enough wealth and fortune to be untouchable and then slowly bend the world in his favor. With some patience and a little skill in history, he would surely prevail.  
  
Patience and skill however, were proving sparse in the Sahara. The heat and sun were relentless upon his fair head and skin and his historian was having little luck reading the Staff of the Sun. Oscar had assumed wrongly that with the assistance of the staff they'd find the Fortress of Aten quickly. Yet the staff that allowed one to look beyond their location and realm came with no instructions and gave no grid coordinates. It was simply mind-boggling to use and Oscar was glad the historian he had teamed with was a more patient man than he.  
  
"Now that the storm has let up," the French historian, Mr. Jean Danton said, "we should search this canyon." The small Frenchman readjusted his wire-rimmed spectacles upon his round face. He was a short, stocky man, not one accustomed to such an arduous adventure and sweat poured down his face smudging the sand and dirt that the windstorm had placed there.  
  
"Like we've searched the other thirty or so canyons and ravines?" Oscar asked with sarcasm and the four other men with them laughed.  
  
One of the men was a trusted ally of Oscar's who would no doubt serve as a head of state in Oscar's new world once their mission was complete. The other three men were simply hired mercenaries that a British scoundrel by the name of Jeffreys had hired for him. They spoke no German, little English and most importantly, asked no questions. They could be trusted because they were loyal to no one but money. If they were paid well, they did as they were told. And paying well was something Oscar could afford to do.  
  
He'd amassed a good fortune over the years in his shipping business and though he'd made enough money to live comfortably, he had not made enough to satisfy himself. What he wanted, what he needed, was to be the richest and most powerful man on the planet. After all, he was German and he'd learned through his father that Germans were the most industrious people on the planet. Oscar had been taught the ways of the Nazis and their beliefs and he too agreed with that doctrine to a certain extent. So when he envisioned himself as the sole ruler of the world, as the wealthiest human upon the planet, he thought it achievable.  
  
Perhaps that made him appear a bit too "driven" in comparison to the rest of humankind. Yet that was merely the opinion of people who could only hope to accomplish what he was setting out to do.  
  
Jean frowned at the sarcasm and asked, "Would you rather give up the search all together, Monsieur Mann? Because aside from searching each canyon and ravine that looks similar to the one shown to us by this staff, I know no other way."  
  
Oscar shook his head and sighed with frustration. "No, Mr. Danton. We shall search here. I just wish we could understand the vague signs shown to us by this blasted relic."  
  
"As do I," Jean replied. "Yet it did show us an exact picture of the Medjai chief in Cairo. That is something."  
  
"Something, yes," Oscar agreed reluctantly. "But I do not believe the Medjai are a threat we need to fear too greatly. Little is known of this desert group and as we have made our way unhindered through the desert, I am beginning to believe they are more local myth than reality. Yes, we killed a man in Cairo who was shown to us by the staff, but I do not think it would have made a difference to us if we had allowed him to live."  
  
"Then why did you have him killed?" Jean asked.  
  
"For the sport of it. And, just in case the locals are right, at least we have slowed the desert warriors down. I am positive that without a leader, they will be unable to respond."  
  
Jean shook his head and carefully laid the five-foot long staff in the cargo hold of the large SUV. "I have read much of the local history of the Medjai. They have been around for centuries. I know they still exist and I am positive they are a threat. And don't be too certain that we have been making our way through the Sahara unencumbered. If I were a betting man, I'd say they were very close and have been aware of our movements for months now. They just haven't shown up because we aren't close. When we near the Fortress of Aten, then the Medjai will show their faces."  
  
Oscar studied the historian for a good long time. It was obvious this man believed in the existence and ability of the Medjai. And Jean Danton was not a stupid man. On the contrary, he was quite cunning. People, however, underestimated him for his pudgy, bookish appearance gave one the impression he was a bumbling intellectual only interested in academics. After having worked along side him for the past few months, Oscar knew better of the man.  
  
Turning his eyes away from Jean, Oscar glanced up at the dark sky. It was still night and the canyon before them was made darker by the shadows cast by the moon. It would be tough going in this ravine with its branching canyons but it had to be searched. And the fastest method was to split up and take a branch each. He was awaiting air support from his other trusted ally, Erik Otto, and had been for two weeks now. Whenever Erik and the helicopter finally came through, he was positive the searching would go that much faster. Until that time, they were on foot, for this canyon floor was impassable by car.  
  
"Well, there's no desert warriors here now," Oscar announced. "Let's split up and start searching. Danton, you wait here with the vehicle. One of you come with me. Herman, take the other two Egyptians and search the west branch."  
  
His friend and partner, Herman Weiss, nodded in agreement and headed off with the two hired mercenaries. Oscar left with the other mercenary, and slowly they trudged their way through the rocky canyon floor. ****  
  
Rose's eyes fluttered opened though she would rather have not awakened at all. Her mouth was dry, her stomach grumbled and that all too familiar ache in her head was still present. In fact, that ache was more pronounced thanks to her hunger and thirst.  
  
After a few moments of dealing with the realities of being conscious, Rose began to collect her thoughts and try to remember just where exactly she was and what her situation might be.  
  
She saw a strange dancing light to her left and felt something warm and solid beneath her head. Then a comforting hand ran through her hair and massaged gently at the back of her neck. She allowed herself to enjoy the sensations before she completely realized just who exactly was creating them. When she realized it was her captor, the Medjai warrior, and that he was not only touching her tenderly but that she was also lying snuggled next to him, wrapped in his robe and head on his chest, her breath froze in her lungs. She didn't move away, however, for he also had an arm around her and she could sense the power of that arm and knew instinctively she would be unable to break his hold if he pulled her back.  
  
Instead, she remained still, her body stiff with tension and her mind attempting to shake off the fuzzy veil that still held it hostage.  
  
"You are awake," the man stated suddenly, and Rose was shocked that he even noticed. She'd done nothing to signal her alertness other than open her eyes and tense slightly, holding her breath. How had he known?  
  
"No thanks to you," she decided to say, remembering the events that had transpired earlier. "If that bullet had been a few inches to the left."  
  
"But it wasn't," he interrupted to insist. "I hit what I was aiming for. I would not have shot you."  
  
"That's reassuring," Rose drawled. Yet she still did not move to get away or stand up. She reasoned that her delay was only due to her headache and exhaustion from her ordeal. Her subconscious, on the other hand, knew it was more. Part of her was attracted to this dark warrior who hid his face and spoke of secret Egyptian history. And she was attracted to him because he was confident and bold and because he had said nothing taunting to her when she'd lost her head earlier.  
  
The warrior's hand continued to massage her neck in an easy rhythm as he challenged, "If you do not believe me, why are you still using me for your pillow?"  
  
Pride forced her to move. Quickly she stood up, though her body protested the effort and she swayed from the sudden movement.  
  
In a swift move the warrior jumped to his own feet and steadied Rose with his hands upon her upper arms. She gripped his forearms tightly, fearful the cave floor would tilt and send her plummeting to her behind. His grip was solid and she was certain she couldn't fall with him holding her upright.  
  
Taking deep breaths the spell passed and Rose nodded her head saying, "I think I'm okay now."  
  
"Perhaps some food and water will help you," the man suggested.  
  
Rose again nodded and watched as the warrior moved over to his saddlebag and extracted a pouch of dried fruit and a canteen of water. While he moved, Rose's eyes made contact with the sidearm holstered at his hip. An idea filled her head in that instant, an idea on how to possibly escape.  
  
She paused in her plotting as her gaze swung to the narrow path that led out of the cavern. What would she do once she escaped and where would she go? She had to find Ali, but where? And would she really last in the Sahara with no direction and only a horse for transportation?  
  
She sighed. Her situation certainly seemed as hopeless now as it did when she'd cried in the warrior's arms.  
  
The warrior returned with the promised food and water and Rose mumbled a small thank you. While she satisfied her thirst and hunger she replayed the scene that had happened earlier. The warrior had proven that he was not afraid to use excessive amounts of force to keep her. Though she doubted he would hurt her, he would go to extremes to hinder her from escaping. She wondered exactly to what extremes she would go to escape him.  
  
"When you are finished," the man spoke up, "we can leave. The storm has let up and I would like to rejoin my men before the sunrise."  
  
"So your band of soldiers can continue looking for the bad guys of the Sahara?" Rose asked mockingly.  
  
"This is no game, Rose," the warrior warned in a low voice. "The men looking for the Fortress of Aten are dangerous."  
  
"If that's so, why are you making me tag along? Wouldn't it be safer for me someplace else?" she challenged.  
  
"Why? You have already proven your ability to defend yourself and ride better than my men. I believe the safest place for you is riding at my side."  
  
Rose couldn't help but warm at the compliment. Perhaps this man did appreciate a woman with strength. As quickly as she warmed at the compliment, she chastised herself for her reaction. Again, she had to remind herself that her mission was not to become intrigued with some masked man, but to find a way out of this mess and back to Ali. Ali was her true friend and Ali respected her. He may not be as daring as this warrior, but he was solid and trustworthy and safe-exactly what she needed in her life right now.  
  
"I'd rather not ride anywhere with you," Rose decided to say, though the force she had hoped to punctuate her words with failed to resonate.  
  
Suddenly those deep, dark expressive eyes the man possessed narrowed on her face and he declared boldly, "You know, you still have yet to thank me for saving you from your ex-fiancé. After all, I could have easily left you with those men." His eyes then turned the darkest shade of black and Rose wondered if it wasn't just a trick of the dancing light as he added, "Or, I could have had the lot of you killed with just one command."  
  
For a man who had professed that he did not take the lives of innocent bystanders, he was certainly doing a good job of professing otherwise now. His words sent an eerie chill down Rose's spine and she felt her mouth involuntarily pull into a frown.  
  
"Good, you do realize I am not a man to be trifled with," the warrior announced as he studied her expression. "I just wanted to make it clear to you that when we return to my men, you will keep your mouth shut. You will not mock me, you will not question me and you will lose every ounce of sarcasm you possess. In private, I will grant your wishes and allow your sharp tongue, but not in public. Is that understood?"  
  
Rose mulled his words over and decided he wasn't being completely unreasonable. After all, he did have men to command and she could see how he could not have his authority questioned, especially by an American woman who knew nothing of their culture or history. And though he bore little resemblance to Ali in his attitude and demands, he didn't entirely remind her of Victor either. Victor had not only refused to allow her to question him in public, but any form of sarcasm or complaint that issued from her mouth in private received a quick reprimand either in the form of a retort or a hard slap. And as the control had grown more and more stifling during the year they had been together, Rose had made the decision to flee. Life with such tyranny had been no life worth living and Rose had thought she had escaped such control.until now. Now, she was again a captive, though not in the same sense she had been with her father and with Victor. But she was a captive none-the-less and she refused to be anyone's prisoner again.  
  
Instead of answering the warrior's question, Rose tested her drama skills. Acting as if another wave of lightheadedness was overtaking her, she swayed and placed a hand on her head while she grimaced with pain. Reacting exactly as she suspected, the warrior reached out with both hands to steady her. His hands landed on her shoulders and she placed her hands upon his stomach. For the brief time her hands landed there, she felt the solid flex of muscles beneath her fingers. She wasn't touching him for the pleasure, however, and without lingering there, she quickly slid her hand to his side and grabbed the Glock handgun from its holster. ****  
  
There was an opening hidden well in the rock wall, but Herman saw it just the same. He doubted it was the Fortress of Aten for they had seen several cave openings like this one before and none had proven to belong to the fortress.  
  
He had heard that the Fortress of Aten was hidden in a small, narrow ravine, barely accessible by horse and rider and that its entrance was marked by a tall, columned façade literally carved into the face of the canyon wall. But that was just myth and no one in centuries had laid eyes upon the fortress. So it could very well be the fortress was simply hidden away in a cave and to be safe, it meant searching anything and everything that could be a possible location. And this cave was no different.  
  
When they entered the cave and found two bridled horses waiting patiently, however, Herman's heart leapt. This meant something was here in this cave.  
  
"Omar, station yourself out here in case something happens," Herman ordered to one of the mercenaries. "Fadi, with me. And be ready. Both of you."  
  
They nodded and Fadi unslung his MP-5 assault rifle while Omar unholstered his handgun and moved to a position outside the cave. When the large anteroom of the cave narrowed into a dark path in the rock, Herman's pulse quickened. Could this be the fortress they had been searching for these past few months? Could it be that this narrow path opened into the temple they were seeking? He began to replay all that Jean Danton had told them about loose translations of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics and inaccurate historic recordings about the fortress's description and location and he grew more and more certain this cave could be the best shot they'd had yet. And then he heard voices.  
  
****  
  
Ali should have known better than to underestimate Rose for the umpteenth time. Each time he allowed his guard to slip around her, she pulled a new trick out of her bag. Now, she was holding him at gunpoint with his own gun!  
  
Yet his concern for her well being certainly overrode any logical and tactical thoughts that his brain produced. So when she had looked about ready to faint, he'd of course rushed to her rescue.  
  
"Like I said," she spoke up as she stepped back out of his reach, the barrel of his Glock pointed right at his chest, "I'd rather not ride anywhere with you. And you just declared that you'd grant my wishes in private. I wish to be rid of you and on my way to my friend's village."  
  
Ali should have been ecstatic that she was working so diligently to escape the "warrior" him and find her way back to the "friend" him. But it was difficult to be ecstatic about anything when the barrel of a loaded gun was aimed dead center at his chest.  
  
With a sigh, Ali finally decided it was time to drop the charade. He had not wanted to reveal himself to her like this. He had wanted to have her at home where he could sit down and calmly explain about his history and duty. This gun, however, was going to change his plans.  
  
"Rose," he said seriously and was just about to pull down his veil when his ears picked up the faint scuff of footsteps to his right. ****  
  
There was a change in the warrior's voice when he said her name. His accent seemed to slip away, and if she didn't know better, she would have sworn it was Ali standing in front of her saying her name. But it wasn't Ali, it was an incorrigible desert leader who had her mistaken for some picture on a wall and though he was staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, his eyes showed no fear.  
  
She had to respect him for that. A brave man was hard to come by in this modern age. Most would be begging and pleading with her to let them go or groveling like a child, shaking and crying. This man, however, hinted at no weak emotions and his brown eyes actually conveyed a hint of frustration and irritation with her.  
  
She wasn't sure what she would do if he called her bluff. And from the expression in his eyes, it was quite possible he would do just that. If he started toward her bravely and decided to take the gun back, Rose would have no option left for escape, for she knew in her heart she could not shoot him. She liked him too much to kill him and besides, it certainly was not in her personality to shoot anyone. Sure, she was skilled with a weapon for her father had taught her to shoot and handle herself at a young age. But she was abhorred to violence and wanted no part of it, even now. She would fight for her life, but her life was not in danger with this man. She merely wanted to leave his presence and find Ali. Nothing more, nothing less.  
  
Her plans and wants, though, were about ready to change. When a Caucasian man dressed in khaki cargo pants and a dark T-shirt entered the cave with an automatic weapon in hand, Rose had the sinking feeling that her situation had just compounded tenfold.  
  
"Well, well," the man spoke in English with a slight European sounding accent. "What have we here?"  
  
Neither Rose nor the warrior said a word and Rose quickly lowered the handgun to her side, hoping it was well hidden from their unexpected company. Her gut instinct was screaming that this man was not her savior and that she was better off with the warrior.  
  
The man stepped further into the room, his weapon trained on the warrior and another man dressed similarly and also armed followed behind him.  
  
The second man, an Egyptian, seemed to hesitate as his eyes landed on the warrior and he uttered one simple word, "Medjai." He seemed to gasp the word as if he was shocked to see a Medjai warrior and he hesitated, nearly dropping his gun in the process.  
  
"Medjai, huh?" the European repeated. "So, they really do exist. Must mean we're getting close to the fortress, Fadi."  
  
The fortress? The Fortress of Aten? Rose studied these men and replayed their words and she was certain this situation was really, really bad.  
  
"Do you know where the Fortress of Aten is, Medjai?" the European man asked as he neared the warrior, the barrel of his automatic weapon only inches from the warrior's chest.  
  
The warrior didn't answer. He merely stood in his place, his eyes trained on this new aggressor and showing no sign of his thoughts or intentions.  
  
"What? You don't speak English?" the European taunted. The man then swung his eyes Rose's way and she saw only trouble in their pale depths. "Do you speak English, lady?"  
  
From the corner of her eye she watched as the warrior's hand crept toward his belt where a sheathed knife was barely visible. As if she could read the Medjai warrior's mind, Rose knew exactly what he was going to do. If she could keep the European's attention long enough, perhaps the warrior could disarm the men.  
  
"Maybe," Rose finally answered. "That depends on what you need to know."  
  
"Does he speak English?" the European asked as he nodded in the direction of the warrior.  
  
Rose allowed her eyes to wander over to the Egyptian before answering. He was still staring awe-struck at the warrior and Rose realized he would be easy to disarm for his attention was not entirely on the situation at hand.  
  
"Well, does he?" the man then demanded when she failed to answer.  
  
Slowly sliding her hand holding the gun further behind her thigh, Rose shook her head and said, "No. I've been trying to communicate with him since he kidnapped me. Thank goodness you showed up when you did." Bravely she moved forward, hoping she sounded and looked like a hostage.  
  
The European apparently bought her act, for he failed to halt her approach with a threat or a word.  
  
"I've been his captive for two days now," Rose continued.  
  
If the warrior thought she was turning against him, he didn't show it, for his hand was still sliding toward his knife and his eyes never left his prey.  
  
"Really?" the man asked. "What did you do to deserve such." he paused and glanced around the dimly lit cave, ".accommodations?" he finished.  
  
Moving slightly to her right, trying to place the European between her and the armed Egyptian, Rose fibbed, "I was with a group on an expedition of sorts. An archeological dig from an American university. Apparently we were camped too close to sacred ruins or something, because suddenly, the Medjai attacked and killed nearly everyone in my group. I was taken hostage. I still don't know why."  
  
The European was a tall, well-built man in his early forties. He could have been handsome if his intentions weren't so obviously menacing. And from that cool, evil look in his eyes, it was obvious that what the warrior had told her about the Fortress of Aten and the group seeking it out was a reality.  
  
"I know why," the European stated. "A beauty like you could catch a fine price in certain countries."  
  
Rose wanted to physically gag as the man issued those words and then reached out and placed a finger on the bump on her head.  
  
"Ouch, looks like someone tried to damage that fine face," he then said, stupidly turning his back on the warrior.  
  
In that instant, Rose watched as the warrior drew his knife and hurled it at the Egyptian blocking the exit. The knife stuck with a thud in the man's chest, and his hand jerked up involuntarily, taking his weapon with him and a loud burst of gunfire rapidly shot from the barrel of his gun as he fell.  
  
Rose jumped at the unexpected firing, as did the European, but the man regained his composure before the Medjai warrior could disarm him and spun swiftly, aiming his MP5 again at the warrior's chest.  
  
"Stop right there, Medjai," the man growled. "Just in case you can understand me, I want you to know this before you die. I thoroughly enjoyed killing your leader when we found him in Cairo. That Staff of the Sun relic is one handy object. It led us right to him. And now, I'm going to thoroughly enjoy killing you and taking your lady too."  
  
Rose could see the man's finger tightening on the trigger and again saw no fear in the eyes of the Medjai, only anger. Reacting quickly, for she knew she was safer with the Medjai than with this terrorist, Rose pulled the Glock out from behind her leg and placed it on the back of the man's neck.  
  
"Do it, and die," she warned.  
  
The man froze and the warrior immediately reached for the rifle. As the Medjai began to pull the gun away, the European swung an elbow back, connecting with Rose's shoulder. The blow caused her to lose her grip on the Glock and the handgun went tumbling to the cave floor.  
  
She and the European dove for the gun at the same time and it became trapped beneath her body. The European was on top of her and with his massive weight, she was unable to pull the gun out from underneath her.  
  
She watched as his hand reached out and grabbed one of the nearby swords that had been left on the cave floor since their arrival. His hand just barely closed over the handle when the Medjai's foot connected with the man's stomach and sent him rolling off of Rose. The blow seemed to phase the large man little, and he was just springing to his feet, wielding the sword in front of him when the Medjai moved in again.  
  
Quickly, Rose crawled away, taking the gun with her and finding the fallen MP5 on the ground not three feet away. She picked it up too and aimed her Glock at the fighting men but she had neither the nerve, nor a clean shot. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the fallen Egyptian push to a seated position against the wall and lift his weapon with the little strength he obviously had left and aim it at the warrior's back.  
  
"No!" Rose screamed and without thinking, only reacting on instinct, she fired the Glock at the Egyptian and hit her mark. The man slumped down and the gun fell from his limp fingers.  
  
She knew she'd be sick later, but for now, her life was at stake and she had no time to analyze the action she had just been forced to take.  
  
The shot from her gun distracted the European long enough for the warrior to land a clean blow to the man's face. The sword nearly tumbled from his hand, but he managed to hang onto it and swing it toward the Medjai again. Agilely, the warrior jumped sideways and dodged the blade. When the man swung past him, the warrior threw a knee to the man's gut.  
  
Rose was certain the two blows the warrior had landed would be enough to topple the man, but the European did not falter as he swept the warrior's legs out from under him, then raised the sword high above his head for a strike.  
  
The warrior too was strong and swift and as the man's torso came down with the swing of the sword, the warrior raised his feet, kicked out and sent the man stumbling backwards a good ten feet. With a push from his hands, the warrior was suddenly back on his feet.  
  
The European, however, had recovered and he was charging the warrior. Again, reacting on instinct, Rose yelled, "Medjai! Here!" and tossed the Glock to the warrior. She closed her eyes when she heard the shot and knew exactly what had happened.  
  
****  
  
It seemed an eternity before the echo of gunfire quieted in the cave chamber. A plume of white-blue smoke hung in the air along with the harsh smell of cordite. At Ali's feet laid the European man who was no doubt a member of the group searching for the Fortress of Aten and the man who had assassinated his father.  
  
Three men he was now responsible for slaying himself in the past week and two more were dead because of his orders or actions. The body count was piling up and he was positive it would grow considerably higher before his tasks were complete. If this incident was any precursor of what was to come, he knew the group looking for the fortress would fight to the death. He and his men had better be prepared.  
  
Ali took no pride in the fact that he had killed. It was nothing he relished and nothing he looked forward to doing. In these more modern times, the death toll seemed to stay moderately low. When his father had ruled during the time of the two world wars, when North Africa was a hotbed of rival armies and greedy explorers, the death toll exacted by the Medjai had been enormous. He realized his grandfather, Ardeth Bay, had more than likely been forced to take ten times the number of lives that Ali would ever have to take. And as Ali stared at the body at his feet, he wondered for the first time if he had the same fortitude to lead and survive that Ardeth had possessed.  
  
His grandfather's name was on the wall to his right. Ardeth had been considered one of the greatest leaders of the Medjai for he had not only saved the ancient sites from the destruction of armies in two great wars, but also defeated the creature Imhotep twice and the Army of Anubis.  
  
Ali still remembered the tales his grandfather had told him when he was a young boy. It had seemed like pure fiction when he was a child, but now that he was facing the dangers head on, he realized there was nothing fictional involved. It was all dangerously real and the proof was lying at his feet.  
  
He reached out and touched his grandfather's and father's names on the cave wall, said a silent prayer that he had the strength to endure, then turned to look at Rose.  
  
She was huddled on the floor, her knees drawn tightly against her chest, her head down and eyes closed. An automatic rifle lay at her feet. It was obvious she had been pushed as far as her endurance could take her and Ali wondered if bringing her here to Egypt had been the best course of action.  
  
Victor's face flashed in his mind at that thought, and Ali was certain in that instant that her chances here with him were greater than they would have been had he left her to Victor and her father in America.  
  
Striding across the cave to Rose, Ali knelt down behind her and pulled down his veil. After what had just happened, he knew he had to reveal himself to her. It was only fair she realize the truth.  
  
He placed his hands upon her shoulders and could feel her body shake beneath his touch. He was positive it was not his touch that was causing her reaction. No, it was more than likely the ordeal she had been forced to endure for the past week.  
  
"You saved my life," he whispered lowly from behind. "I thank you."  
  
Her hands moved to her face and she covered her eyes with them.  
  
"I figured I was safer with you than with them," she mumbled. "After all, you only want to marry me. Who knows what they would have done with me."  
  
Ali wished she would turn to look at him. His nerve was evading him and his instinct was to replace the covering over his face and resume his charade.  
  
"I feel I want to marry you even more now," he announced with a light tone. "You are brave. The perfect wife for a Medjai warrior."  
  
His hand landed in her hair and he smoothed it with care. She did not flinch, nor did she turn to look at him. She remained sitting on the floor, her face hidden from him with her hands.  
  
"I don't think I could survive being married to you," she said sadly. "Its too dangerous."  
  
"At times," he agreed.  
  
Ali moved his hand to lightly massage her neck. He needed to touch her now not only for her peace of mind, but also for his own. When those men had held them at gunpoint, his life had flashed before his eyes and he had been disappointed that his life had barely included Rose. Now that the danger had passed, he needed to be close to Rose, needed to secure his relationship with her. The friendship they had fostered was dear to his heart, but he no longer wanted her as just a friend. He was attracted to her and always had been and touching her now was so incredibly reassuring.  
  
"But you have proven your strength, Rose," he continued as he lowered his lips to her hair. He kissed the top of her head. "You will be celebrated in my tribe for your courage."  
  
She chuckled, but it was a sad, weary laugh.  
  
"I'm not courageous," she declared. "I've just shot a man, I feel sick to my stomach and I can't stop shaking. And I just want to be reunited with my friend. I miss him so much."  
  
"This friend you have been speaking of..do you love him?" Ali asked, anxious to know her feelings ever since he had revealed his own to her in Cairo.  
  
Rose removed her hands from her face and lowered her head to her knees. Ali could see her eyes were still closed and he was glad, for he wanted to hear her answer before she saw him.  
  
"I.don't know," she confessed. "For so long I'd convinced myself that we were just friends, and then all this happens..I just haven't had time to analyze my feelings."  
  
Ali would take that answer for now, for it was logical. Of course, he had hoped for more of a true declaration.  
  
"And me?" he then asked. "Could you love a man like me?"  
  
Again Rose chuckled and she shook her head.  
  
"Your timing really needs some work," she quipped. "But if you must know now, all I can say is that I don't know. I admire your bravery, but I don't even know what you look like."  
  
Taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves, Ali moved his lips to her ear and whispered, "Then turn and look upon my face, my love. Kiss me and tell me what you feel."  
  
He felt Rose's body halt its shaking in that instant and her back stiffened with tension. Then ever so slowly she raised her head, wiped at her eyes and began to turn. Before her eyes could befall his face, a cold gust of wind blew through the cavern in a hard burst. The torch flame flickered out and they were encased in complete darkness.  
  
Ali didn't recognize the sign at first, for he was too intent on kissing Rose. She didn't falter at the darkness and willingly turned into his arms. She placed a hand upon his cheek and remarked, "So much for seeing your face. But I will kiss you just this once at least to thank you for fighting to saving my life too."  
  
Her arms reached up and looped around his neck and her lips willingly met his. Unlike the previous kisses they'd shared, this one was not forced, nor was it short and sweet. They kissed like lovers, their mouths hungry for something stable and warm after their ordeal with the gunmen. It was a joining that affirmed life and after several moments, it developed into a joining of passion.  
  
Ali was the first to pull away. Reluctantly, he pulled his head back as a groan was building in his throat. Now he wanted to do more than simply kiss her. His desire was aflame but the cold wind that had dosed their light was once more circling the chamber.  
  
"What is that?" Rose asked quietly.  
  
Ali touched her lips with one short, breathtaking kiss and she did not protest. Then he released her and replaced his veil. The wind was a sign, and he was only now reading it.  
  
"Come, we must leave. More danger awaits us," he said seriously.  
  
The wind had extinguished their torch right on cue. If Rose had seen his face, she would have been angry. He knew her well enough to predict that. And her anger would have more than likely caused her to run. But running could not be permitted because Ali was now certain that more members of the terrorist group were nearby.  
  
"Danger? What?" Rose shot out.  
  
Finding the saddlebag on the floor, Ali extracted the small flashlight, replaced the Glock in his holster and reached for his over-robe.  
  
"The wind, it was a sign, Rose. There are more men nearby. We must leave before." Ali's words trailed off as he heard the horses nicker with impatience. Someone had already arrived.  
  
"Quickly, gather the other weapons," he instructed and he belted on his two swords and picked up one of the discarded MP5s.  
  
Rose didn't hesitate, nor did she argue. She pulled the MP5 from the dead Egyptian's hand and then bravely wiggled the knife from his chest. She handed the knife to Ali and slung the MP5 over her shoulder, keeping it at the ready.  
  
He looked down at her with some amusement when she stood boldly next to him with the rifle and as if reading his expression, she said, "I may not like violence, but I don't have much of a choice right now, do I?"  
  
"Yes, you will make a very good wife," Ali drawled one last time before the footsteps of the approaching man reached them in the cavern.  
  
This time, they held the element of surprise, and when the man stepped into the cavern and was blinded by the beam of the flashlight, he reacted by dropping his weapon. Quickly, he turned and ran back through the rocky path and Ali followed right behind him.  
  
They broke through into the gray light of dawn and when Ali reached the man, he heard the last bit of a one-sided conversation the man was hurriedly relaying over a hand-held radio.  
  
"Medjai," the man was shouting into the radio. "I fear Herman and Fadi are dead! We are in the west ravine."  
  
The man's speech halted when he spun around and saw Ali in front of him, wielding a sword. He visibly shook and Ali took much pride in the fact that even in this modern day, a Medjai warrior cloaked in black with their traditional scimitar could still evoke such fear in a man.  
  
"Be sure to tell them the Medjai will come for the rest very soon," Ali growled.  
  
The man's eyes grew large and he appeared to be frozen to his spot.  
  
"Please." the man begged.  
  
Ali placed the tip of his sword against the man's shoulder and said, "I am going to spare your life so that you may warn the others in your group. Give up the search for the Fortress of Aten, or die. It is your choice."  
  
To punctuate his threat, Ali pressed the tip of his sword into the man's shoulder until he drew blood. When the man protested with a shout of pain, Ali then swung his fist and hit the man in the face, rendering him unconscious. His deed done, Ali turned to find Rose waiting by with the horses.  
  
"Come," he announced as he grabbed the satellite phone from the saddlebag and took the saddled horse. "We must meet up with my men."  
  
Without issuing a word, Rose swung up onto the bare back of the horse she had originally stolen, and waited for Ali to mount. As soon as he did, they raced out of the canyon, to find his men. ****  
  
Oscar Mann was deep in the shadows of the eastern ravine when the call came through on the radio from Omar. He attempted to reply, but received no further response and he assumed that meant Omar had met with a horrible fate as well. He cursed under his breath and the mercenary regarded him with wonder.  
  
"It's the Medjai, Omar says they attacked. He thinks Herman and Fadi are dead," Oscar explained. "Come on, let's get over to the western ravine."  
  
Just as they were turning in the opposite direction to try and find their associates, another call came through on the radio. It was from Jean, the historian, and he at least had some good news.  
  
"Monsieur Mann, your pilot just phoned in. He's finally on his way," Jean relayed.  
  
"At least that's something," Oscar returned. To his man he said, "We need to hurry." His satellite phone was unable to reach his men for the battery was too low for a proper signal. Ali stifled a curse growing in his throat and simply urged his horse on to even more speed. Rose, riding right next to him, did the same and he was surprised she didn't once veer away or attempt another escape. She seemed content to ride with him and he assumed she had felt they had bonded with the ordeal in the cave.  
  
****  
  
Ali, however, wasn't going to inquire of her if that was the case. He figured it best to say nothing and merely ride, enjoying the fact that for the first time in two days, Rose wasn't fighting him.  
  
They rode up a dune and as they crested the mound of sand, a group of dark riders were visible in the distance. His men were coming to look for them and Ali was glad for it would save them much valuable time.  
  
He pulled up his horse and Rose did the same. As the Arabians danced from foot to foot, eager to continue their run, Ali pointed to the distance and announced, "My men are on their way."  
  
"So what are you going to do?" Rose inquired. "Take your warriors and go back to the canyon, looking for the rest of those men?"  
  
"Yes, that is what we are going to do," Ali answered.  
  
"And me? Please don't tell me you're going to make me go back there," Rose said in more of a plea than a question. The underlying desperation in her tone was difficult to miss.  
  
Ali sighed, then made the only logical decision in regards to Rose.  
  
"No, I will not make you remain with me," he said. "I will send you and your friend on your way. The village you seek is only a few hours by horse to the north."  
  
Rose gaped at him. "You're releasing me that easily?"  
  
"I never said I was releasing you. I said I was sending you on your way. You will see me again. I guarantee you of that."  
  
Then he reached under his robe and unclasped the necklace he wore. It was the symbol of his position and had been passed down from chief to chief. He had just recently claimed it, and he was giving it to Rose to signify to his tribe her importance to him.  
  
"Take this," he said, handing her the leather strand that held the gold rectangular charm. Ancient symbols were carved on the one-inch charm that represented honor and strength. "I will come for it when my duties are fulfilled."  
  
"And when you come back for it," Rose questioned, "will you claim me too?"  
  
Ali heard the sarcasm and ignored it. Instead, he answered, "I will not claim you. But you will have to chose your fate."  
  
"My fate? You mean, marry you or suffer the consequences?" she spat out.  
  
"No. I would never allow harm to befall you. Surely you must have figured that out by now," he returned.  
  
He watched as Rose's face changed from defiant to humble. Then she glanced into the distance, watched his men for a brief moment then turned back to him.  
  
"You said in private, I could have my wishes," she began.  
  
"I did," he agreed. "Any wish within my means."  
  
Rose reached up and clasped the golden charm around her neck and said, "I'll wear this and I'll consider your offer if you promise to do one thing for me."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Find my brother, Tony. I've been worried sick about him since you left him in the desert. I can't bear the thought of something happening to him out here."  
  
Ali hesitated, then asked, "And what of Victor? Shall I find him for you too?"  
  
"You can kill Victor for all I care. I just want to see my brother again."  
  
"Then I will try to do as you wish. After we are through with the group searching for the fortress, I will seek out your brother. Meanwhile, return to the village and find your friend, Ali. I feel you have unfinished business with him."  
  
He left her with those cryptic words, then urged his horse down the dune and met his men halfway. They bowed with respect and Devraj rode to his side, Yasmeen on the horse behind him.  
  
"You are well, my lord?" he inquired of Ali in their native tongue.  
  
Ali answered that he was and then watched as Yasmeen's inquisitive eyes landed on Rose.  
  
"You unbound her," Yasmeen replied in Arabic. "Does that mean she knows your identity?"  
  
"No, but we have reached an understanding," Ali answered. "Please, take her to the village, Yasmeen, and speak of nothing of our secrets."  
  
"As you wish," Yasmeen said, as she slid off the back of Devraj's horse then took a pack from another rider. She walked over to Rose's horse and handed the bag up to Rose.  
  
"Your things," she said. "I was able to get them from the Jeep when we were first." she paused and glanced back at Ali and finished, ".captured."  
  
"Thanks," Rose said.  
  
"Please dismount and we will acquire a new horse for this one belongs to the Medjai chieftain," Yasmeen explained and held out a hand to assist Rose down.  
  
Rose dismounted the magnificent stallion and slung her bag over her shoulder. Ali dismounted the horse he'd been riding and handed it off to Yasmeen.  
  
"Travel safely," Ali instructed, then assisted Rose and Yasmeen onto the back of their horse.  
  
Rose looked at him with a strange mix of wonder and respect and Yasmeen merely glared at him. Then Yasmeen kicked the horse into a gallop and the women were gone.  
  
"The men we seek are near!" Ali called to his men as a warrior saddled his horse and he swung onto Raja's back.  
  
Devraj looked at the women disappearing into the distance then back at his leader. "She wore your necklace," he observed. "Yasmeen will not be pleased when she discovers that."  
  
"I do not care what Yasmeen thinks," Ali returned.  
  
"No, but you may care what her father thinks," Devraj relayed. "He has it in his head that you and she will marry."  
  
"That cannot happen," Ali declared, "for it is Rose's face that is depicted in the Cave of Prophecies. She is to be my wife."  
  
Devraj regarded his leader for a long moment with only a slight hint of surprise. His loyal friend was good at disguising his emotions.  
  
"If that is so, do you think sending her off with Yasmeen was the best course of action?" Devraj asked with humor.  
  
"Yasmeen is cunning, but I had little choice."  
  
"Perhaps you are right. Then let us hope that Yasmeen does not taint your bride against you while we are gone."  
  
Ali chuckled for a brief moment and said, "Yes, let us hope not."  
  
All humor, however, quickly left when he saw the helicopter closing in and flying toward the canyon to the east. Ali had a feeling they were going to lose their prey. **** 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
  
One of his hired mercenaries was dead, the other wounded and his friend and confidant, Herman, had been murdered. He felt the heat of rage invade his face as he glanced around the cavern at the drawings and writings of the Medjai. So the tribe was a reality and they had struck with much force. But not as much force as he would bring upon them to repay the death of Herman.  
  
They dragged the bodies of their fallen comrades out of the cave and dug a shallow grave. Oscar would never leave his good friend behind without a proper burial-it just wasn't civilized. Their helicopter, however, was on its way, and Oscar knew there was no time for long good-byes. With a simple word to his dead brethren, he returned to their truck and the historian to see when their helicopter would arrive.  
  
The helo would arrive in five minutes, but with three men down, that left only himself, one mercenary, Jean Danton and his pilot, Erik, to search out the Fortress of Aten and seek revenge against the Medjai. They would need reinforcements-men they could trust. And it was then that he received a call from Jeffreys. Perhaps Jeffreys wasn't the most trustworthy man, but he had served Oscar well in Cairo for a sum and now that Jeffreys was in his own bind, Oscar figured he was their best shot at reinforcements. Jeffreys had men with him who were also seeking the Medjai and if they combined forces, perhaps they could each benefit the other.  
  
****  
  
The sounds of children's laughter filtered in through the window and a light breeze carried with it the smells of evening. Rose opened her eyes and stared at a white plaster ceiling, bare white walls and sparse furnishings. She had to concentrate to remember just where she was and it dawned on her that since leaving California, her surroundings had changed much too often.  
  
So had her life changed. The events that had taken place in the Sahara felt almost surreal to her. The courageous Medjai warrior who had insisted she was fated to be his wife and the attack in the cave had to have been a nightmare. Then she remembered clearly the horrible feeling that had sunk into her bones when she'd shot that armed Egyptian and she realized it had been no nightmare as she'd hoped, but a dreaded reality. It was a reality, however, that had happened for a reason. She'd made a decision to take one life to save another, and as she again pictured the Medjai chief in her mind, bravely fighting off the European who was searching for the Fortress of Aten, Rose was happy she'd acted as she had.  
  
Rose again heard the sounds of life, happy life, echoing into her room and she forced the memories of her ordeal in the desert out of her mind and focused on the here and now.  
  
Just where was she again?  
  
She concentrated for a long moment and realized she was in a small village nestled in the crook of a green river valley. She remembered the flat, brown adobe buildings built into the side of a small hill and the surprising lush greenery that was flourishing along the banks of the winding river. Yasmeen had told her it was their village and that they had been blessed to not only live along one of the tributaries to the Nile, but also over a large underground aquifer that provided their village with precious water. They were lucky, for water in North Africa was worth more than gold.  
  
So, they had arrived in the village, and Yasmeen had brought Rose to this dwelling. Shortly after that, Rose had fallen into a deep sleep. She had no idea who's home she was in and where Ali might be found.  
  
With the thought of finding Ali, Rose pushed out of the bed she'd been using and exited the room. She walked into a large living area with a dining room, living room and kitchen. It was inviting and furnished simply and the smell of baking bread caused her stomach to grumble.  
  
"Good, you are awake," a female voice sang with enthusiasm.  
  
Rose turned to see a middle aged woman standing in the doorway from another room. Her silver-streaked hair, that was obviously once black, was pulled back in a bun and she wore dark, loose-fitting pants and a light colored tunic-style shirt. The linen material of her clothing flowed with her as she moved and her bare feet slapped quietly as she walked on the cool cement floor that had only area rugs for covering.  
  
"I am baking bread. Are you hungry?" the woman asked and Rose was shocked to find her English impeccable with only a slight accent.  
  
"Uh.yes. I'm famished," Rose answered.  
  
She followed behind the woman and sat at the rectangular table that had the look of hand craftsmanship. Rose still had no idea who this woman was and wanted to ask without sounding rude.  
  
"If you don't mind me asking," Rose began, "who are you?"  
  
The woman smiled a warm smile then turned back to her oven.  
  
"I am Iman, Ali's mother," she explained. "I am sorry we were not properly introduced earlier. But when Yasmeen brought you here, I was out. She found me and told me you were here and that you were sleeping. I understand that you are a good friend of my son's from the States."  
  
"Yes, Ali and I are good friends. Has he spoken of me?"  
  
Iman nodded. "Several times in emails home. He seemed to enjoy your company in California."  
  
At first Rose was warmed that Ali had spoken of her to his mother. After Iman's words sunk in, however, she was amazed that they had access to email out here in the middle of the Sahara.  
  
"Email?" Rose inquired.  
  
"Yes," the woman answered. "We have Internet access, electricity and even running water." Iman's words were laced with jest.  
  
Feeling a bit embarrassed that she'd assumed this to be nothing more than a tiny village with more in common with the 1800s than the 2000s, Rose apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that this was some backwater village without any amenities."  
  
"I understand, Rose," Iman assured her. "And I do not take offense. There are several small villages out this way that do not have what we have. We are lucky. But we are a village with one mind and one purpose and we take care of our own. You may not have all the comforts afforded in America, but you will not be lacking in necessities."  
  
"I thank you for your kindness in taking me in," Rose said. "And believe me, after what I've been through this week, I am grateful for the comfort here."  
  
Iman's eyes traveled over Rose's face with inquiry, then her dark eyes paused for a long while on the necklace Rose wore. For a moment, she seemed surprised. Then a sad, longing look captured her face and she glanced down to her hands and said quietly, "I see you wear the symbol of the Medjai chief. Tell me, Rose, how did you acquire that?"  
  
"It's a long story. Didn't Yasmeen tell you about what happened to us on our way here?" Rose asked, again thinking of the bizarre events that had unfolded in the desert and her encounter with the mysterious warrior chief.  
  
Iman stood quickly and moved to the oven to retrieve the bread. She kept her back to Rose and when she did chance to look back, her eyes continually darted to the necklace around Rose's neck.  
  
"Yes, she told me. I know the Medjai rescued you from attackers. It just shocks me to see you wearing that necklace. Rumor is, a Medjai chief does not part with that symbol of his power unless he plans to return to claim his." Iman paused and a wistful look filled her face as she glanced back at Rose.  
  
"To claim his what?" Rose questioned, hoping desperately that by accepting the necklace she hadn't inadvertently pledged herself to the Medjai chief.  
  
"To claim his.property."  
  
Rose shot to her feet and began fumbling with the clasp on the necklace to remove it from her neck as if it were searing her skin with pain.  
  
"I'm not property!" she spat under her breath.  
  
Iman quickly moved to her side and placed a hand on Rose's arm to halt her efforts.  
  
"Perhaps property wasn't the correct term to use," Iman corrected. "Maybe prize is better?"  
  
"Prize? Like something a person wins in a carnival game?" She frowned and sat with a huff.  
  
"Leave it on, Rose," Iman insisted. "Your Medjai chief may be insulted if you remove it."  
  
"He's not my anything. Besides, I'm here because of Ali, not the Medjai. Where is Ali, by the way?" With all the confusion of waking up in a new place once again, Rose had almost forgotten to inquire of Ali's whereabouts. Now that she was picturing him in her mind again, she ached to see him. He had left her in Cairo with so many unanswered questions. His words of love had seemed almost surreal, and she just wanted to see him again to determine if their relationship had truly blossomed beyond friendship as she hoped.  
  
"He is not here," Iman answered.  
  
"Not here? Where is he?" Rose felt her stomach drop like a lead weight with the disappointment.  
  
"He is out in the desert." Iman then quickly added, "Searching for you."  
  
****  
  
Rose was standing in the morning light of the kitchen with her back to him, barefoot, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a plain red T-shirt. Ali smiled to himself at the sight and a taunt filled his mind. He knew better than to issue the taunt about her barefoot in his mother's kitchen, for after the time he'd spent with her in the Cave of Prophecies, he could predict her sarcastic, liberated retort. Just seeing her, however, looking cleaned of all desert grime and relaxed was enough of a reward. All teasing could wait until later.  
  
He moved forward, slowly, using a stealth that few possessed. As he neared her, he allowed his eyes to wander over her backside and he again smiled to himself. His best friend, his future wife, filled out denim better than most.  
  
"Is this right? Damn, I can't remember what she said to do next," Rose told herself quietly as she mixed ingredients in a bowl, still oblivious to Ali's presence. "Iman, I need." she began to call.  
  
"You need what?" Ali asked from behind, as he poked her in the ribs playfully.  
  
Rose jumped, nearly screamed and spun around so quickly that she collided with Ali's chest.  
  
Stunned, she stood riveted to the floor staring wide-eyed at Ali. It seemed a lifetime since she'd glimpsed him and she was unable to speak, her mouth hanging open with her shock.  
  
"Rose?" he questioned when she failed to react.  
  
Rose wrung the dishcloth in her hands. Ali looked tired to her, but incredibly handsome. The desert must have enhanced his masculinity for suddenly her best friend was completely irresistible. He was freshly showered, his longish hair still damp as it hung to barely touch his shoulders. He was dressed in a soft gray T-shirt and white drawstring cotton pants, his feet bare, and never had Rose seen him so casual.  
  
It had also been days since she'd seen him and a bit angry over that fact, Rose swung the dishcloth at him and snapped, "I'm mad at you! You sent me into the desert alone with Yasmeen. We were nearly kidnapped by my ex- fiancé and then some group of warriors nabbed us. I was almost killed by whackos looking for some ancient fortress, was forced to shoot a man and then I get here and you're nowhere to be seen!" By the time she finished her words, tears were brimming at her eyes.  
  
With a wry smile, Ali placed a hand under Rose's chin and forced her gaze up to his.  
  
"Rose, I'm sorry," he said sincerely.  
  
It was all he had to say and Rose immediately forgave him. Then she was enveloped in his embrace, the soft cotton of his T-shirt against her cheek contrasting with the hardness of his chest beneath. Surely it was the most comforting hug she had ever felt.  
  
The embrace didn't last as long as Rose would have liked. After a few moments, Ali pulled away, leaving his hands upon her shoulders and began, "Rose, I know you asked me."  
  
Ali stopped himself. He had almost revealed that he'd been unable to locate Tony. Dropping that bomb right now would only send her into shock. It was obvious from the tired look on her face and the quick explosion of her words when she'd seen him that she was still recovering from all the events of late. Coming right out and telling her now that he was the Medjai chief that had taken her "captive" would only send her over the edge.  
  
"I asked you what?" she prompted when his words failed.  
  
Gathering his thoughts, Ali covered by saying, "I know you asked me in Cairo if you would be safe with Yasmeen. I thought you would be. I apologize."  
  
"It wasn't Yasmeen's fault," Rose confessed. "In fact, Yasmeen was pretty tough. It was Victor's fault all this happened."  
  
When Ali stared at her with a blank face, obviously because he had no idea who Victor was, Rose took him by the hand and began to pull him toward the table and chairs only a few feet away.  
  
"I have a lot to explain," she stated. "You need to know about me, Ali."  
  
Iman's form entering the kitchen from her bedroom halted any advance toward the table. Immediately, the mother smiled at her son and moved to embrace him. She hugged him fiercely, speaking fluently in their native tongue, then pulled away and placed her hands upon his face. Though Rose knew nothing of what Iman was saying, it was obvious from the body language she was welcoming Ali home.  
  
"Ah, my boy is home again," Iman said in English as she released him and looked at Rose. "But for how long, hmmm?"  
  
Ali visibly hesitated and Rose wondered just what Iman meant by her question.  
  
"There is still much work to be done, mother," Ali finally answered. Then he glanced at Rose and added, "Lets not talk about work now. I am too glad that Rose is finally here with us."  
  
To emphasize his words, he threw a friendly arm around Rose's shoulders and tugged her near.  
  
"Tell me, mother, what do you think of my best friend?" Ali questioned.  
  
Smiling sincerely, the lovely woman who'd aged so well placed a warm hand on Rose's cheek and said, "She is a beautiful creature, Ali. Especially since she was willing to help me make breakfast." Then Iman's hand dropped to the pendant around Rose's neck and she clasped the charm in her fingers. "However, I fear the Medjai chief also finds her to be a beautiful creature."  
  
Ali waved off his mother's words with a hand.  
  
"The Medjai are nothing to worry about," he insisted.  
  
Remembering the stunning fierceness the Medjai warrior had possessed when he'd fought and the dauntlessness when he'd killed, Rose was positive Ali was wrong. She recalled the warrior's words to her before they had parted. He said he would be back and that she would have to choose her fate. And for a while, he had intrigued her. After all, he had both saved her life and battled with her in a test of wills. His ability and courage and skill were attractive. She'd even kissed him. But now that she was standing next to Ali again, she wondered how she could ever consider a man like the warrior when her best friend was all she needed.  
  
"I wouldn't exactly say that," Rose countered.  
  
"And neither would I," Iman agreed.  
  
Ali sighed and then turned to look at the pendant upon Rose's neck. He was pleased she was still wearing it. The ancient charm suited her well. And he realized that once she went out into the village with it upon her neck, she would become the center of attention, for it meant the Medjai chief had chosen his bride.  
  
"We need to talk, Ali," Rose insisted. "You need to know about this," she touched the necklace, "and about a lot of other things."  
  
Quickly Iman moved to the wooden door of the house. "Please, talk, my son," she insisted and disappeared before he could halt her.  
  
He realized he and Rose did need to talk. He had been telling himself the entire time they were together in the desert that he had hidden his identity because he wanted to wait until the right moment to explain things to her. That right moment, pictured in his mind, had included them alone in his village, with Rose rested and ready to hear everything.  
  
This was that moment.  
  
Ali, however, wasn't positive he was ready to tell her. He was exhausted. They had ridden all day yesterday and much of the night through the desert retracing the steps of the men looking for the Fortress of Aten and finding that they indeed had disappeared into air as was suspected. After finding the terrorists gone, Ali had quickly turned his men west again to the canyon hours away, where he'd left Rose's brother. When his men arrived there by nightfall, that canyon too was devoid of people, only the two disabled vehicles remained. From the evidence left in the sand, it appeared as if a helicopter had landed there too and Ali's fears compounded. His troubles and Rose's troubles had joined forces. He was positive, for both the terrorists and Victor's group had one common denominator and that was Jeffreys.  
  
"Sure," Ali finally agreed, "we can talk, Rose."  
  
Now was not the moment for Rose to hear about him, but he would listen to her, though he knew all that she was going to reveal.  
  
She dragged him over to the couch, her fingers interlacing with his in that familiar fashion. He was positive she balked when she first felt his fingers laced with hers and he wondered how long he could continue hiding what he was from her. It had been a difficult act in the Cave of Prophecies. Each time he had spoken he was positive Rose would detect his voice. And every time his eyes landed upon her with a warmth he could not control, he was sure she would guess his identity. But the ruse had worked for the time they were together. Ali just wasn't sure it would work much longer.  
  
So Ali sat willingly upon the couch next to Rose, listening to her recount how her mother had died when she was young and how her father and his inherited extortion business boomed throughout Chicago while she was growing up.  
  
"He literally became the most powerful crime boss in the city," Rose said. "But he wasn't satisfied with just being rich and powerful. He wanted to be accepted by everyone. We moved to this old money, upper-crust neighborhood when I was a teen and my dad, as dangerous and as powerful as he was, he still needed for those neighbors to like him. He used me to get in with those people. My friends at school belonged to those families. I rode horses and played golf at the country club with the elite of Chicago society. But it bored me. When I told my dad I didn't want to be a part of that scene, he forced me to. I had no control over my life, Ali. None."  
  
She paused and leaned back in the couch, expelling an exasperated breath.  
  
"It was like I was born into this curse I could never escape." She turned her head to look at him. "Can you understand what that's like?"  
  
She watched as his kind eyes faltered and he looked to the floor. "I guess I could imagine," he said.  
  
He could imagine all too well. He may not have been born into a crime family, but he had been born into a role he was unable and unwilling to escape. He cherished his role as chief of his people, only sorry that succession had come at the expense of his father. But he remembered a time at one point in his life when he had been defiant and told his grandfather that he would refuse to take his role when the time came.  
  
Ardeth, strong and dominating even in his old age, had insisted that Ali would not waver when his fate called him.  
  
"You, Ali, are a Bay and that alone means you are strong and fearless. When your fate calls you, you will answer," Ardeth had told him one day. "You cannot see that now, but you will. This I know."  
  
How Ali had loved his grandfather's wisdom and how he missed it now. Ardeth had been gone for some time now, having married much later in life, always saying humorously that the two world wars had given him little time for finding a wife. Because he had married so late in life, he had been a very old man when Ali was a child. Though his grandfather had lived to a ripe old age, he had not been in Ali's life long, so every word that Ardeth uttered that Ali could recall, he cherished greatly.  
  
"This doesn't shock you, does it? I mean, I know I never told you about my father or my real life, and I'm sorry," Rose said, breaking into Ali's thoughts of the past. "But I had been hiding from him and Victor for so long.I was afraid to tell anyone. And when you came into my life, I just wanted to forget that anyone in Chicago even existed. I wanted to forget that Rosalinda San Giovani existed. I felt as if I truly had started over as Rose Sanchez with you at my side."  
  
Ali leaned forward and sweetly kissed Rose on the forehead. He smiled at her and said, "It doesn't shock me, Rose. I always knew you were hiding something from me and that you would tell me when the time was right. We were close friends, yes, but not as close as we should have been. And I fear we both held back from each other."  
  
Smiling back at him for his gentle words, Rose inquired, "And what did you hold back?"  
  
Ali's mind urged him to tell her about the Medjai. His heart, however, feared the results. He silently chastised himself for his cowardliness. He could face the darkest of evils and the most fearsome of foes, but he couldn't explain to Rose the simple reality of his identity.  
  
Instead of confessing his identity, he confessed his feelings. Moving forward slightly, his lips met hers and he kissed her briefly, just as he had in Cairo.  
  
"That," he said. "That is what I hid from you, Rose. My feelings that were growing for you."  
  
A lopsided grin grew upon her pink lips and mischievously she asked, "Could you show me again? I don't think I quite understand."  
  
With his own grin, Ali leaned forward and kissed her again. This time, he lingered on her lips, keeping the caress slow and innocent. He was afraid to kiss her like he had in the cave. His attraction was too strong and he feared losing the ability to control his desires. If he kept their passions to a minimum, then he could ensure not pushing this new relationship too far, too fast. He would marry her, he was certain, but it was not going to happen today. He had time. Or so he thought.  
  
As Ali pulled away from the second sweet kiss, Rose wanted to protest. She felt something very deep when he kissed her and it was much more than friendship. There was a bond between them and a growing passion. Even now, her lips tingled and her stomach fluttered with anticipation of more. Ali, however, had scooted back a good distance from her and his face held a curious expression.  
  
"Tell me about Victor?" he suddenly insisted.  
  
Rose shook her mind from the fog of passion it had slipped into and asked, "What?"  
  
"Victor? You keep mentioning this Victor," Ali explained. "Tell me about him."  
  
"Oh, Victor Galbadon. He's my ex-fiancé," she revealed and watched as Ali frowned. She was pleased that he was jealous, it evened the score over Yasmeen.  
  
"And what kind of man is this Victor?" Ali asked with a tone laced with subtle anger.  
  
"He's a complicated man. I used to admire him when I was younger. He'd worked his way up in my father's 'company' and gained his ultimate trust. Since my older brother, Tony, refused to have anything to do with handling dad's dirty business, father sort of adopted Victor as his successor. Once that happened and I was out of college and old enough, it seemed only natural that Victor and I would get together." Rose paused, taking a deep breath and trying to repress the fear that seeing Victor in Egypt had created in her soul. She was afraid of him, plain and simple. As strong as she'd grown these past five years, it still hadn't dissipated the fear she harbored toward him.  
  
"And so, we started dating and eventually got engaged," Rose stated, trying to sound nonchalant about the past. "For a while, I thought I loved him, but as I matured I realized I could never love him. He was an evil man. He enjoyed the killing he did for my father. And he enjoyed control. Heaven forbid I try and speak my mind, or he would."  
  
When Rose's words faltered, Ali gently asked, "He would what?"  
  
Rose shook her head. She didn't want to continue for it brought back too many painful memories.  
  
Ali reached out and grabbed Rose's chin, forcing her to look at him. His hold was firm but gentle and when her eyes connected with his she was shocked by the dark, commanding expression they held. For a brief second, she almost thought she was looking at the same eyes the Medjai warrior had possessed. Yet that was silly, for Ali could have nothing to do with the Medjai, it wasn't in his nature.  
  
"Tell me, Rose," Ali insisted.  
  
"He would promptly shut me up," Rose finally confessed.  
  
She needed to explain no more, for it was obvious Ali understood. Muttering a string of curses under his breath that Rose could not decipher, he stood abruptly and paced across the living room.  
  
"That cowardly bastard," Ali spat out. Visions of what he should have done to Victor when he'd had him in his grasp flitted through his mind and he berated himself for not killing the man when he'd had the chance.  
  
"He is," Rose agreed, a bit shocked by Ali's reaction. "And he's here in Egypt. Somehow he found me here and held Yasmeen and I at gun point until the Medjai came swooping in."  
  
Ali stood across the room from her, his face holding a grim expression, but saying nothing. As he continued to remain silent, Rose reached up and touched the small bump that still remained on her face from the attack in California and said, "Victor's responsible for that little incident in my apartment. Those were his men that were sent to get me."  
  
"They are dead men now," Ali revealed.  
  
Rose already knew this from conversations she'd held with Ali in Cairo, but she did not know of how they died or by whose hand.  
  
Standing and catching Ali's eye, Rose questioned directly, "Did you kill those men in my apartment, Ali?"  
  
He stood stoically by, his face giving nothing away.  
  
"Ali? Did you?" Rose urged.  
  
"I happened upon you in your apartment right after the first man hit you," Ali began to explain with little emotion. "I caught him off guard and was able to disarm him of his first weapon. However, he was armed with a second gun and when he turned it upon me." He allowed his explanation to drift off, for the ending was easy to figure.  
  
Rose shut her eyes tightly, angry at herself for the position her life had forced Ali into, and didn't even want to hear what had come of the second man in her apartment. Ali had killed to defend her. It stunned her, for never in her wildest imagination would she have pictured Ali taking another life-even in self-defense.  
  
She wanted to cry over the shame she felt. By hiding her past from him, she'd inadvertently put him in harms way. And he'd gallantly saved her. Suddenly, her humorous, soft-spoken friend was having more in common with the Medjai warrior than she could ever believe.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ali," Rose said on a whisper. "God, I'm so sorry you were put in that position."  
  
She felt his hands land on the bare skin of her upper arms. His grip was warm and firm and she could smell the fresh scent of soap lingering on his body. His nearness warmed her and she kept her eyes closed, hoping the feel of him close by would ease her guilty conscious.  
  
"Look at me, my darling," he demanded softly.  
  
When Rose shook her head, refusing to look at him, he shook her slightly and said with more force, "Look at me, Rose."  
  
His demand again proved to her that he had changed upon reaching Egypt, and when she finally opened her eyes and stared at his resolute face, she was positive she had misjudged his strength these past few years. Ali was no simple computer geek like she'd always suspected. There was a hardness to his personality that was now apparent and she was sure it had been lurking beneath his cool surface for a long time. She'd just been too blind to see it until now.  
  
"You were not responsible for what happened in your apartment," he insisted. "Victor was. Your father was. You were not. I killed that man to save myself and to save you. I do not hurt over that and neither should you."  
  
Power, boldness and courage all oozed from every pour of his body. His olive skin seemed more radiant in the morning light and the determined glint in his expressive brown eyes washed over her giving her his strength. Rose was positive in that instant that Ali could defend her even against the mighty Medjai. She was thankful now for what had transpired in California, for if the events of the past week had never happened, she would still be blind to all that Ali was.  
  
She smiled widely at him and moved her hands to touch his handsome face. He remained still, neither speaking nor moving, and allowed her to explore at free will. She touched his dark goatee and mustache, traced the outline of his full lips then tangled her fingers in that long, black hair she'd never touched before. It was slightly wavy and slipped through her fingers like fine silk.  
  
Then her hands traveled to Ali's broad shoulders and moved down the hard, muscular plains of his chest. Yes, he was indeed physically strong and if she hadn't been so afraid to trust again, she would have no doubt discovered it long before today.  
  
"Ali, why did we waste so much time?" Rose inquired with regret. "Why did I not truly see you until now?"  
  
"We wasted nothing," Ali insisted. "Did you not cherish our friendship?"  
  
She nodded and felt his long, lean hands cup her face.  
  
"I too cherished our friendship. I am glad we took our time learning about each other. And now, we can take our time learning even more.intimate details," he added.  
  
Rose laughed softly, then felt Ali tug her against his body. There was power in his embrace and she realized he'd done well at hiding just as much from her as she had from him.  
  
He reached out and touched the charm upon her neck and asked, "Did you accept this as a gift, or as a promise?"  
  
"I accepted it as a maybe," she answered. "I won't lie, there was something about that chief that intrigued me. Maybe even attracted me. The Medjai saved me.more than once. I was indebted to their chief."  
  
"You are indebted to no one," he returned. "But the Medjai will no doubt return."  
  
Rose sighed and pulled away from Ali. The incredible moment was gone with the mention of the Medjai.  
  
"Yes, they will return. At least, their chief will," Rose agreed.  
  
"So, you know this chief well?" Ali inquired with a hint of humor in his voice.  
  
Rose glared at him. "Its not funny, Ali," she snapped just like she had every other time he had taunted her in America. Though their relationship had jumped several levels, they still fell easily into their comfortable friendship and Rose was thankful for that solid foundation.  
  
Mischief filling her face, Rose threw a hand upon her hip and revealed, "You know, the Medjai chief did happen to think you were a big sissy for not claiming me sooner. He said you were weak."  
  
Ali frowned at her apparent joy over those words. "Did he? Well, in that case, we could always go back to being just friends and we'll see if your desert warrior has any better luck at claiming you for himself."  
  
Reaching out and poking him in the ribs causing him to jump, Rose said, "Is that so? Because he did make a pretty good offer; marriage and the chance to bear his heir to the throne of his tribe. What gal could resist that?"  
  
Ali laughed, hearing the jest in her voice shine through again and he pulled her near.  
  
"I can make you a better offer," he countered. "Friends for life, lovers forever and anything you wish for the future."  
  
Rose smiled up at him, then accepted his offer with a long, sensuous kiss. It was a kiss filled with passion and promise and they held onto one another for several minutes, relishing in the feel of their new relationship and thankful to finally be together.  
  
Ali then touched the Medjai charm again and said, "The Medjai are honorable people. Their chief will understand your decision. I am thankful he saved your life, but I will not part with you."  
  
"I'm thankful he saved me too, Ali. And to tell you the truth, he reminded me much of you at times. Of course, it could have been all those fantastic stories he was telling me that had me imagining things." Rose tilted her head back to get a better view of Ali's face and asked, "Tell me, does the Fortress of Aten really exist?"  
  
She wouldn't have been asking such a question if those men hadn't attacked them in the cave while inquiring about the fortress themselves. However, the European had confirmed the Medjai's story and Rose had to wonder if such a secret place existed that would drive men to fight to the death.  
  
"I hear it does," Ali answered. "You will see that Egypt is a different place than America.just as I am a different person here than I was in America." He added the last phrase in the hopes that when he revealed his identity, the blow would be gentler. For now, he was satisfied knowing that Rose was attracted to him, not to the position of power he held with his people. He'd sensed her intrigue when he'd held her captive as chief, but he had also sensed her fear. Here, without any evidence of his warrior status, Rose was completely at ease and he knew in his heart that she cared for the man and not the warrior.  
  
"Not different," Rose disagreed. "I'm just finally seeing you, that's the difference."  
  
She hugged him fiercely for several minutes and Ali would have gladly remained in her arms had he not been so exhausted. He'd slept little the past few days and his last rest had been in the Cave of Prophecies with Rose more than twenty-four hours ago. He needed to sleep some, then meet with his men and the Council to determine their new course of action for protecting the Fortress of Aten. If he stayed with Rose much longer, he knew he would never sleep.  
  
Pulling away reluctantly, Ali said, "Rose, I hate to do this to you now, but I really have to sleep. I've been out in the desert for." He stopped himself, wondering just what he was supposed to tell her about his desert trek.  
  
"Yes, I know, you were out looking for Yasmeen and I when we didn't make it here. Your mother told me last night," Rose explained.  
  
Ali sighed with relief, glad his mother had covered for him, but knowing she would do so for only a short time.  
  
"Anyhow, I'm exhausted. I should go rest." He kissed her quickly on the cheek as she nodded her approval and turned for the front door.  
  
"Why don't you just nap here?" Rose inquired from behind him.  
  
He halted his exit and turned to look at her beautiful face, furrowed with confusion.  
  
He smiled at her and explained, "I'd never get any rest here, my darling." When she chuckled at his answer, he added, "I am staying with a friend. I'll be by to see you later. Meanwhile, finish making your breakfast."  
  
"You know I possess no domestic skills," she argued.  
  
He laughed at her response because he knew it was quite true and exited out the door. His emotions were a mix of elation and worry. Rose was within his grasp now, but the group seeking the fortress was not. He prayed he had the fortitude to prevail as weariness settled upon his shoulders. He'd sleep on it and when he awoke, he was positive a fresh mind would produce a solution.  
  
****  
  
How long had she been standing there, staring at the closed door like an idiot, Rose wondered, as she heard a knock echo through the house. Her heart was racing faster than it had when she'd fought with the European in the cave and her head was swimming more than when Victor's man had knocked her silly. Knowing that Ali thought of her as more than a friend drove her blood racing in a mad frenzy through her veins and it took the caller another knock to finally shake Rose from her revere.  
  
Finally forcing her feet to move forward, Rose opened the door hoping to see Ali again, but instead disappointed to find Yasmeen. Perhaps disappointed wasn't fair. Yasmeen, after all, had cared for Rose in Cairo and acted quite brave when Victor had attempted to abduct them. And they had spent a good five hours on horseback together yesterday riding to the village. With that in mind, Rose smiled a small smile for the woman and invited her in.  
  
"Good morning, Yasmeen," Rose said.  
  
"Good morning," the woman returned with a neutral tone. It wasn't exactly welcoming, but it was better than the cool receptions Yasmeen had dolled out before.  
  
"I came to see how you were doing," Yasmeen immediately explained as she crossed the threshold briskly, pulling a beautiful pink scarf from her head that matched her cotton shirt.  
  
"You came to see how I was doing?" Rose asked with amazement.  
  
Yasmeen frowned and her full mouth pulled off the expression with perfection.  
  
"Yes, I am still concerned about your concussion. You have had a hard few days and you could very well be suffering from the effects of your injury still," she said. "If you are feeling badly, we have a doctor here who could perhaps do more for you than me."  
  
"There's a doctor out here?"  
  
"You sound amazed," Yasmeen observed.  
  
"I am. I'm as amazed by that as I am that Ali's mother gets email out here," Rose drawled.  
  
Yasmeen laughed, proving to Rose that she did indeed posses a sense of humor and said, "Ah, Rose, you underestimate our quaint village! And I'd bet you would be surprised to know that we also have engineers here and bankers and linguists. Every member of our tribe knows English and most of my generation has been sent away for schooling abroad."  
  
Rose gaped at Yasmeen because again she was shocked to learn more about this little desert village and its plentiful resources and also because she thought the word "tribe" was rather a strange choice of words. The Medjai warrior had often referred to his people as his "tribe" too and Rose wondered if it was simply the way one spoke in the desert.  
  
"Really?" Rose asked back. "This little village in the middle of the Sahara is really that advanced?"  
  
"In some ways, yes. In other ways, we are very traditional." When Rose stared at Yasmeen for a long while with a perplexed expression, the woman sighed with frustration and inquired, "Has Ali told you nothing about this place?"  
  
"I've barely just seen him this morning and then he was off to sleep. We've talked some, but mostly I told him about me. He knows now, Yasmeen, about Victor and my father and everything in my past. So you needn't go tattle on me."  
  
"I wouldn't have," Yasmeen declared. "Do you really trust me so little after what happened in the desert?"  
  
Rose paced a half circle around the woman who was very similar in height, but quite different in personality, and studied her carefully.  
  
"I don't know," Rose answered honestly. "We have done nothing but argue over Ali the entire time."  
  
"We have. But that is only because I was caught off guard by his friendship with you," Yasmeen confessed.  
  
"And if I told you that our friendship was developing into more, what would you say?" Rose probed.  
  
"I would say that I was not entirely surprised." Yasmeen's eyes landed on the necklace around Rose's neck and she appeared shocked for a brief moment. Then her eyes seemed to settle with concern. "I would also ask if Ali knows about that?" Yasmeen pointed to the necklace.  
  
Rose touched the charm and shrugged. "He knows. He says its no big deal."  
  
"No big deal? A Medjai chief gives you his symbol of heritage and its no big deal?"  
  
"Again, Yasmeen, I have to ask how you know so much about the Medjai."  
  
Yasmeen shook her head and then blurted out, "And I have to ask how you profess to be such good friends with Ali and yet know so little about him."  
  
"What does that mean?" Rose asked defensively.  
  
Yasmeen looked as if she were itching to blurt something out, but she visibly closed her mouth tight and shook her head.  
  
"All it means, is that your Medjai chief may think that necklace is a big deal," Yasmeen said. "He will come to reclaim you. It is a promise."  
  
"Reclaim me?" Rose shot out. "When the Medjai gave this to me, he said I had a choice to make. I had to chose between him and Ali."  
  
"Chose between them? Just what went on in that cave during the sandstorm?" Yasmeen asked, her face growing more distressed with every word.  
  
"It's complicated," Rose explained. "On the one hand, what woman wouldn't find a dashing hero in black attractive? I mean, the warrior did save my life from the bad guys and from Victor. On the other hand, there was something dark and disturbing about his life. It was so dangerous and he was so serious about his mission. And the cave wall.oh, I forgot to tell you! There's a picture on this wall of a woman with blue eyes. The warrior said it was me and that it was already written that he and I would marry. Of course, its absurd and now that I'm out of that situation, I realize that I don't want any part of it. I know I want Ali. And if that upsets you, Yasmeen, I'm sorry, but that's just the way I feel."  
  
When Rose was finished with her long-winded exposition of her adventures during the sandstorm, she saw that Yasmeen had found a seat on the couch. The woman's face was now paling and she looked completely stunned.  
  
"Yasmeen? Did I say something wrong?" Rose asked.  
  
"The Medjai chief said you're his prophesied wife?" Yasmeen asked slowly.  
  
"That's what he said."  
  
"Tell me, do you honestly love Ali?" she then inquired.  
  
Rose smiled warmly as she again remembered the kisses and embraces they had shared only a half-hour prior. She nodded vigorously. She knew now that she loved him. She hadn't been exactly sure until she'd realized how horribly she'd missed him while she'd been in the desert. He was her dearest friend and now much more. How could she not love him.  
  
"With all my heart," she confessed.  
  
Quickly, Yasmeen sprung to her feet and hurried toward the door.  
  
"Where are you going?" Rose inquired.  
  
"I must speak with my father," Yasmeen said vaguely, leaving Rose wondering exactly what she meant by that as the door closed in her wake. **** 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
  
A hand brushing across his face was enough to awaken Ali from his slumber. Usually, he awoke when his subconscious mind merely sensed another presence. The years in America, however, had dulled his senses and he was shocked that a person had gotten close enough to him to touch him in his sleep. Quickly, he opened his eyes and reached out, snaring a thin wrist in his hand.  
  
"It is only me," Yasmeen said and Ali's eyes focused on the woman's face confirming that.  
  
"What is it?" Ali questioned, still exhausted and irritated by Yasmeen's interruption. He released her wrist roughly, but she remained seated on the edge of his bed.  
  
"It is Ahmad. He called for you. I was sent to find you," she explained.  
  
Ali pushed to a seated position and ran his hands through his hair, then rubbed his face. He studied the clock on the nightstand and calculated that he had slept for six hours. It felt as though he had slept but one.  
  
"I will call him back shortly. I assume the satellite pictures are up?" Ali questioned.  
  
Yasmeen nodded. "It appears to be the case."  
  
Still, she remained, not moving from the spot.  
  
"Ali?" she asked quietly.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
There was an uncharacteristic waiver in Yasmeen's voice as she quietly asked, "Was it so bad between us years ago?"  
  
He turned his head and looked at her. The usually confident temptress was looking rather insecure and Ali was moved by her show of emotion.  
  
"No, it wasn't so bad," he confessed.  
  
"Then what happened?"  
  
"Yasmeen, we were kids."  
  
She nodded in agreement, then said, "You were my first love, Ali."  
  
He smiled down at her, then sweetly kissed the top of her head. "I suppose you were mine too. But that is in the past and you and I have no future."  
  
"I know," she accepted. "But my father."  
  
"Your father has a different version of the future. I have been told," Ali interrupted her to say. "Do not worry, Yasmeen, I can handle your father."  
  
"I have confidence you will. And I have confidence in you as our chief. Rose will make a good wife, Ali, but you have not confessed everything to her," Yasmeen said.  
  
He shrugged, then stood from the bed. "Not yet. But she knows I love her."  
  
"You need to tell her, Ali. She will be angry when she finds out you have been hiding such a huge secret from her," Yasmeen declared.  
  
"She will understand," Ali answered with assurance.  
  
Yasmeen looked up at him and her confidence was again restored. "She will not understand, she is a woman. She will overreact, blame you for all her troubles in the desert and not forgive you for at least a month."  
  
"A month?" Ali chuckled. "Your imagination is too wild." He rubbed her head harshly, messing her perfectly wavy locks like he had done as a child and watched as she fumed beneath her pretty exterior.  
  
Smoothing her hair and dodging his hand again, Yasmeen said, "You will see, I will be right."  
  
Devraj entered the dwelling at that moment, and Ali watched Yasmeen's expression change again. Suddenly, she seemed demure, almost blushing as she nodded to Devraj and skirted the men heading for the door.  
  
"Tell her," she repeated, turning at the doorway, then bolting out into the sunlight.  
  
Devraj closed the door after her and asked, "Did I interrupt anything?"  
  
"No. We were just talking," Ali answered, still querying over Yasmeen's demeanor before she left, then leveling his eyes on his friend. "But I do believe Yasmeen likes you."  
  
"You imagine too much, Ali," Devraj insisted as he walked past his chief to the computer station set up in the corner of the small house. "Yasmeen has only noticed you. It was like that when we were children, and it is like that now. Rumors are circulating quickly around the village. People have heard you brought an American home, others have heard that Yasmeen's father is politicking to have you and she married off. You must address the Council, and soon."  
  
"I will," Ali said. "But first, lets call Ahmad at the university, download the new satellite images and see if there is any evidence of our enemy's helicopter or movement near the fortress. Then we must create a perimeter with guards around the fortress and start contacting our people in the cities to see if anyone knows who chartered that helo. Someone must know something. You can't pay for a helicopter in this country and not leave a trail." ****  
  
Two hours later, Ali was standing before a council of five men. They were aged Medjai, many of whom had served with his father and known his grandfather. The Council upheld the laws and traditions of the Medjai and managed the workings of the village. Ali's position equaled that of the Council, but there were times when five could be stronger than one, and Ali feared tonight was one of those nights.  
  
Yousef sat at the center of the long table, his eyes as confident and calculating as those of his daughter's. It was easy to see where Yasmeen's boldness and spirit had been inherited from her father. Both probed their adversary for weakness and tonight, Ali was at the center of that probe as he explained about the happenings in the desert and his encounters with the dangerous group of Europeans that sought the fortress.  
  
"You say you avenged your father's death and killed the man who assassinated him?" Yousef asked.  
  
"I did," Ali answered respectfully.  
  
Though he was chief of his people, the Council was also powerful and it was usually with mutual respect that the two entities addressed one another.  
  
"How many more were in this group?" another Council member asked.  
  
"I do not know. I came across only three. Two died, one was injured. I heard them communicating on a radio and know there were more somewhere. A helicopter flew in to extract them shortly after my confrontation with the other men," Ali explained.  
  
The Council put their heads together and whispered to each other. Ali looked over his shoulder at Devraj who stood loyally by. Devraj would make a good leader and Ali planned to name him as his second in command tonight in front of the Council.  
  
"What else have you discovered, my lord?" Yousef asked.  
  
"Not much, I'm afraid. The satellite images show no unusual movement or traces of a helicopter near the fortress. We are currently trying to track down the charter service that may have supplied the helicopter to these people. I've hacked into charter company websites looking for reservation records and am trying to access credit card information as well. I have found nothing yet," Ali reported.  
  
"Keep trying, Ali," Yousef encouraged. "Meanwhile, let us ensure the fortress is well guarded."  
  
"I have already sent men, Yousef," Ali told him, "and I will personally check on them tonight."  
  
"Very well. You also need to know that Mohammad's son, Tarek, is working at an international bank in Switzerland. He said he noticed some strange movement of money from an outside source in Germany through his bank here to Egypt. He would like for you to call him to discuss this further," Yousef added.  
  
"Of course, I will call him before I leave tonight," Ali promised.  
  
"Good, then if we are all through with talk of the fortress, let us bring forth new business," Yousef began. "Do you have any items to mention, my lord?"  
  
"I do," Ali stated. "I would like to inform you of my plans to make Devraj my second in command. He has served me well and would make a fine chief if harm befell me."  
  
Yousef glanced past Ali to Devraj, then turned to look at the other four members of the Council who nodded their agreement.  
  
"Agreed," Yousef announced. "And I am glad you brought up the subject of succession, Ali. As you know, we lost your father much sooner than any of us had planned. The Bays have served the Medjai as chiefs for hundreds of years. Currently, you are the last of your line and you are already thirty. The Council fears a crisis in the making with this current situation before us. Your grandfather, Ardeth, prolonged marriage until he was much older and many Medjai feared that would be the end of the Bay lineage. As you know, after that scare, the Council enacted a new law wherein if a chief has no brothers or uncles to take command, we would have the power to implore the chief to marry as quickly as possible to ensure a proper heir. Devraj is loyal indeed, but he is not a Bay. The Council will accept him as chief should you die, but we would also like for you to marry so that the option of producing an heir is still available. Do you not agree that this is a prudent course to take?"  
  
Ali bowed his head. "Yes, Yousef, it is a prudent and proper course."  
  
"Good!" Yousef suddenly shouted with joy and stood, clapping his hands. "It is done. You and Yasmeen shall marry by the week's end."  
  
Ali's head suddenly shot up and his eyes landed on the joyous look upon Yousef's face. Then he glanced over his shoulder at Devraj who looked pale and then found Yasmeen standing in the corner, a horrified expression on her face. Though Ali possessed the greatest amount of respect for the Council, he was still chief, and he would not agree.  
  
"We will not marry," Ali said firmly and all celebration on Yousef's face disappeared.  
  
"What? You defy the Council?" Yousef challenged.  
  
"I will defy the Council," Ali answered.  
  
"But we already voted, three to two to create this marriage," the man argued.  
  
"Yes, but I too have a vote and that makes it three to three," Ali said. "Yasmeen does not want to marry me. I do not want to marry her."  
  
Yousef's eyes traveled across the room and landed on his daughter. She stepped forward and Ali prayed she spoke honestly from her heart. He realized she still harbored something for him, but he trusted she would not ruin his chances at happiness with Rose by interfering in this.  
  
"He is correct, father," Yasmeen announced. "I do not wish to marry him."  
  
"What?" Yousef cried out. "My daughter would deny the chief of the Medjai?"  
  
"He does not love me," Yasmeen explained, then added, "And I do not love him."  
  
Yousef turned his eyes to the ceiling of the large meeting room. It was so reminiscent of what had happened with Ali's grandfather. It was recorded in their Council records how Ardeth had refused marriage for several years, despite the Council's urging, for he had not loved his suitors. Rumor was, he had lost a woman whom he had loved and it had taken until after World War Two, when he was nearly fifty, before he married and produced an heir. Yousef couldn't quite comprehend the stubborn ways of the Bay family, but the Medjai were in a crisis and all stubbornness would have to be put aside.  
  
"Love is not important here," Yousef argued.  
  
"It is all that is important," Ali said. "Besides, I have already chosen a wife. She is here now."  
  
Yousef sat and gaped at Ali. "The American woman? She is your chosen bride?"  
  
Ali nodded.  
  
"But she does not know our ways," Yousef insisted.  
  
"She will learn them. My grandmother was not of our people and she learned our ways."  
  
Yousef shrugged. "That was nearly sixty years ago, Ali. Modern women these days will not understand our duties. Especially an American woman. She will only bring conflict to our tribe. We have worked hard at learning to blend in with the modern and traditional worlds. She would stand out. She would not fit in here."  
  
"You do not know her," Ali argued. "She will learn our ways, she will fit in."  
  
Looking to his left at another Council member, Yousef stated with weary, "Sometimes I wonder if this generation that we have sent out to learn about the technology and culture of the modern world will not betray us and our traditions. I fear an end to our ways."  
  
"I will not betray my people!" Ali shouted out with anger. "And this generation of Medjai will serve the desert and her secrets as loyally as any generation before. But do not betray me by questioning my judgment. I am chief now, Yousef, and you must accept that. Do not force me into a loveless marriage and do not force your daughter into the same. Besides, I have seen my chosen's face upon the Cave of Prophecies."  
  
A low murmur erupted in the room and Yousef sighed and rubbed at his forehead. The stubborn man was debating, but Ali knew that it would take more than an outburst from the chief to change Yousef's mind. The tide that would persuade Yousef revealed itself from a quiet corner. Slowly, the eldest of the warriors stood and pulled the hood of his light colored robe from his head. Hammad was ancient. There was no other word to describe the man. He had served under Ardeth and the wisdom that he had acquired throughout his ninety years was well respected by the entire tribe. Whenever there was a standoff between Council and chief, he was the one to whom the decision was deferred.  
  
"Go get me this American woman," Hammad said with quiet command.  
  
Quickly, Yasmeen raced out of the meeting room to fetch Rose.  
  
****  
  
"And what of Ali's father?" Rose asked Iman. "Where is he now?"  
  
Iman sighed and stood from the kitchen table, taking hers and Rose's tea cups with her.  
  
"All these questions, Rose. You have warn me out," Iman stated with weary.  
  
"I'm sorry," Rose said. "I'm just so curious about this place. And I haven't seen Ali since this morning, or I'd be asking him." Rose stood from her seat and carried the teapot to the sink. Standing next to Iman, she asked, "Do you think tomorrow we could go out into the village a bit? I'm dying to see this place more closely."  
  
"Are you up to it?" the woman inquired. "After all, you did sleep much of the afternoon today." Iman reached up and touched Rose's head. "And you still have quite a bruise on your head."  
  
"I'm feeling better. Today was a day of much needed rest. But I really just want to get out some."  
  
Rose's words were punctuated with an urgent knocking on the door. Iman moved to the door and an almost incoherent Yasmeen burst through.  
  
"Rose, you must come!" Yasmeen insisted as she shoved a skirt and shirt in Rose's hands. "Put these on first, Rose. If you look too American tonight, there's no way the Council will agree."  
  
Iman calmly placed her hands on Yasmeen's shoulders and said firmly, "Yasmeen, slow down. Please tell us what is going on."  
  
"The Council and Ali are." Yasmeen glanced at Rose and halted her words. Quickly changing into her fluent Arabic, Yasmeen explained the situation to Iman.  
  
Rose frowned as she watched Iman pale, but had no idea why the woman was reacting so. Yasmeen had purposely stopped talking in English to obviously hide something about Ali from her and Rose was just about to demand someone explain things to her when Iman turned to Rose and urged, "Rose, go change. Hurry."  
  
Rose did as the women instructed and donned the black wrap-around skirt with the golden-leaf print and a simple cotton peasant top of the same golden color. It was an elegant outfit, loose fitting and quite appropriate for the hot, dry weather. She'd certainly have to thank Yasmeen for it later, but when she exited her bedroom, Yasmeen was quickly placing a black scarf over her head and shoulders and dragging her out the door barefoot.  
  
"My shoes," Rose complained, as she was spirited through the cobblestone pathway that wove between adobe houses and buildings. She lost track as to which direction was which and was only able to make out a few passerbys who were dressed in a variety of styles and fashions ranging from western influences to traditional.  
  
"You will only have to take them off once we arrive at the Council's meeting hall," Yasmeen explained.  
  
"What Council?" Rose questioned.  
  
Yasmeen slowed as they approached a large, square building. A small crowd was gathered in front of the door, murmuring quietly. When Rose and Yasmeen neared them, they hushed and quickly moved aside, making Rose think she was suddenly a spectacle in this village.  
  
Yasmeen tugged on Rose's hand, but as they were about to enter the building, Rose refused to take another step.  
  
"Yasmeen, tell me what is going on," Rose insisted.  
  
Fixing her scarf and trying to cover the side of her head with the visible bruise, Yasmeen said, "This is the village Council. They have asked to see you. It is best if you say nothing unless they ask you a question. My father is the Council's chairman, he is a stubborn and traditional man. Remember that. And whatever you do, please make it sound like you are open to learning new ways."  
  
"I am," Rose said.  
  
Yasmeen smiled and fixed her own pink scarf that had fallen from her head in their mad rush.  
  
"Good, then you will do just fine."  
  
She pulled Rose into the building behind her and Rose was shocked at what she saw. The room was unremarkable with plain walls and a bare floor. What was remarkable, however, were the several tall, handsome men who were kneeling in rows on the floor, their faces serious and stoic. They were dressed in a variety of styles, just like the villagers Rose had passed on the way and again Rose remembered how Yasmeen had talked earlier of the vast experiences of the villagers who inhabited this unique place. A few women were scattered throughout the room as well and that made Rose feel more at ease knowing they weren't exactly stepping into an entirely male domain.  
  
Yasmeen continued to pull Rose forward, kicking off her sandals out of respect for the Council and their importance. Rose noticed that heads were turning to glance at her with curiosity. There was no suspicion or hatred in any of the glances, they were merely inquisitive.  
  
Rose spotted Ali in the middle of the room, standing before a long table seated with five older men. Ali was dressed in a beige tunic shirt, the collar embroidered with golden thread and loose-fitting cotton pants. His feet were bare and his hair was loose, falling near his shoulders. He never turned his head to look at Rose when she approached, instead his eyes were trained on the men at the table, a defiant look upon his handsome face. He stood before the group, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin set in a resolute expression. To his right stood another man, dressed in a similar outfit but in dark gray, and his stance mirrored that of Ali's. The five men at the table, meanwhile, stared back at Ali with the same determination set in their faces.  
  
Rose wondered what Yasmeen had dragged her into when she caught the looks on the faces of the main players in the room. But she wasn't about to inquire, for she remembered Yasmeen's warning to her before they had entered the building. She was, however, going to grill Ali just as soon as this ordeal was over.  
  
The man at the center of the table suddenly stood and called loudly to Yasmeen. Rose understood nothing he said and she wished they would all use that English that Yasmeen had divulged that the entire village knew. The man spoke a few more sentences, before Yasmeen announced in English, "This is the woman you asked for, father."  
  
"Bring her forward," Yasmeen's father insisted, and Rose shouldn't have been surprised that Yasmeen's father was the man at the center of the table, for he carried the same confident air as his daughter.  
  
"This is the village Council," Yasmeen whispered. "Kneel before them. Just answer their questions and do not be afraid."  
  
Suddenly Yasmeen was backing away and Rose was left standing alone. Slowly, she sunk to her knees, unsure of how to proceed and turned her head to look at Ali for some guidance. He however, was still stubbornly staring down Yasmeen's father, and Rose again queried over what this scene was about.  
  
"Are you the American woman Ali Bay speaks of?" Yasmeen's father asked in English.  
  
Rose nodded and answered, "Yes, sir. I am." Then she again threw a sideways glance at Ali, wondering just what he had spoken of her, but he still refused to look away from the council of men before him.  
  
"What is your name?" the man then asked.  
  
"Rose," a male voice answered for her. "Rose Sanchez."  
  
Suddenly a male form cloaked in a very traditional robe shuffled before her and held a withered old hand down to her.  
  
"Stand, my child, so that I might look upon your face," the man demanded softly.  
  
Rose took his hand and stood. She felt all eyes upon her back and even noticed that Ali was finally looking her way.  
  
The man before her was a bit taller than her and much older in years. His skin was wrinkled and dark, his hair and beard white. Upon his face were faded marks that Rose thought could have once been tattoos, yet were too dull to identify clearly. He reached up and removed her scarf from her head and his twinkling brown eyes surveyed her face for a long moment before he finally smiled and patted her hand warmly.  
  
"It has seemed almost a lifetime since I have glimpsed your face, Rose," he said to her. "You do not yet understand your importance here, but you will."  
  
Curiosity was eating away at her, but Rose held her tongue and quelled the desire to ask about the man's strange words.  
  
He turned from her abruptly and spoke aloud to the Council before him. "I am afraid, Yousef, that your wishes will not be granted this time. This woman belongs here."  
  
Yousef sighed and sank back in his chair. "If fate so wishes it, then it must be."  
  
A murmur of relief flooded the room for a moment before the Council rose and bowed their heads toward Ali. He in turn bowed to them and the men filed out quickly.  
  
Rose looked at Ali who smiled her way briefly, then he turned and shook hands with the man at his side. Looking for the old man who had been speaking with her only moments before, Rose discovered that he was gone. The room was abuzz with activity and people standing to leave, and Rose was unable to spot the old man. It was as if he had been an apparition that had vanished into thin air.  
  
Suddenly, Ali was at her side and he again smiled down at her as he offered her his arm.  
  
"Ali, what's going on?" Rose asked.  
  
"Not now, Rose," Ali answered in a subtly commanding tone and the look in his brown eyes mirrored that tone.  
  
Letting go of his arm, Rose snapped lowly, "No, now. I want to know."  
  
Before she could finish her retort, Ali had replaced her hand on his arm and was silencing her with a harsh look.  
  
"I said, not now," he whispered to her, his perfectly straight white teeth clenched with the effort of keeping his voice low. "When we are alone, I will explain. Now is not the time."  
  
She was again reminded of the Medjai chief and his warning to her about questioning him in front of his men. How was it that Ali could resemble that veiled man in such a respect? It puzzled Rose and she used that thought to distract her mind from her other burning curiosities as she exited with Ali from the building.  
  
They passed through the crowd leaving the meeting hall and several people bowed their heads in a show of obvious respect for Ali. It was an odd sight, as odd as the sight of Ali standing defiantly in front of the Council had been. Again, Rose was going to make sure she questioned Ali thoroughly just as soon as they were alone.  
  
They walked together down a path, leaving the crowd and meeting hall behind and Rose noticed that Yasmeen followed along with the man who'd been Ali's companion at the meeting. He was a handsome man with shaggy dark hair, but possessed a darker, more menacing look than Ali. His eyes were hawkish, surveying each and every person who crossed their path with a suspicion that Rose knew she had once herself owned when she'd been hiding from her father in America.  
  
The path ended at the greenery of the meandering riverbank and Rose was delighted to finally have an opportunity to see something of the village. The landscape was a heavenly oasis in the middle of the dry Sahara and Rose took a deep breath, enjoying the clean smell of the dimming evening in her new home. At least, she thought this was going to be her new home. Was that what the Council meeting had been about-her staying here?  
  
She turned toward Ali as soon as they reached the riverbank and noticed that their escorts had wandered downstream further. Knowing they were out of earshot, Rose immediately asked, "What in the hell is going on, Ali?"  
  
He didn't answer her, instead he grabbed her up in his arms and soundly kissed her. His lips did a wonderful job of distracting her and diminishing her anger and as they worked their magic her desires flared.  
  
When Ali pulled back, Rose was speechless and gazing up at him with a glazed expression.  
  
"The desired effect I was hoping for, my love," Ali said with a crooked grin. "Please, do not berate me about the Council meeting. It was unavoidable if you were going to stay here with me."  
  
"But why? I don't get it. Do you have to get permission for every foreign guest you bring in to stay?"  
  
"No," Ali said, shaking his head. "Only permission for every foreign woman I plan to marry."  
  
Rose laughed and swatted at his arm like she had done a million times before to him.  
  
"Really, Ali, be serious," she insisted.  
  
Ali frowned furiously. If his faithful followers could see this now, they'd surely wonder if he'd lost his senses. He had just proposed to the woman he was destined to marry and she was laughing at him like he'd told a joke! That was no proper response to give to a Medjai chief! Then again, Rose knew nothing of his true heritage and to her, he was simply her long- time friend whom she had just recently begun seeing as more. Perhaps the idea of marriage now was too much too soon. Yet Ali had little choice, for the Council expected him to marry as soon as possible. He had avoided the fate of marrying Yasmeen, but he would not be successful at delaying his wedding to Rose for too long. The Council and his people needed him to marry quickly.  
  
"I am serious, Rose," he argued.  
  
Rose's blue eyes, the color of the sky on a perfect sunny day, darkened with fear and she looked away from him, frowning herself.  
  
"I wish you weren't," she said in a whisper. "The last man I got engaged to tried to kidnap me the other day. I don't think I'm ready to get engaged again."  
  
"You're comparing me to Victor?" Ali questioned incredulously. "Surely by now you must know he and I are very different."  
  
"Yes, you are. But after all I've been through I'd just like to settle into things before we start talking happily ever after," she explained.  
  
An angry growl emanated from Ali's throat and he turned his back on her, picking up small stones from the ground and chucking them into the running river waters to ease his stress.  
  
"You'll drive me insane, woman," he mumbled.  
  
Turning toward him, her hands thrown on her hips in defiance, Rose asked, "What did you just call me?"  
  
Ali caught the look in her eyes and he realized it had changed from fear to fight. She was again that woman who'd fought him in the Cave of Prophesies and if he retorted now, she'd only continue the struggle.  
  
"Darling," he answered lightly with a smile.  
  
Rose lost her armor and her mouth pulled into a grin. She sighed. "Ali, it's just too soon for me."  
  
"Too soon? How long has it been since you left Victor and your father?" he inquired.  
  
"Five years," she answered, then quickly added, "But what I mean is.it's too soon for us."  
  
"Your logic evades me, Rose."  
  
"And your persistence confuses me, Ali."  
  
They stood in the growing dusk, staring at each other, neither relenting. It would have surely continued on for hours, if Ali had not decided he would have to take the first step.  
  
Taking her hand, he led her to a spot suitable for sitting and began with what was in his heart. "Darling, I want you to know that I would never treat you badly. I realize your father and Victor hurt you and I understand why you've hidden the truth about them from me these past few years. The entire time we were growing as friends, I sensed you had trouble trusting and I never pushed you for anything."  
  
Smiling up at his handsome face and touching his cheek, Rose agreed, "No, you never pushed for anything. You were always a wonderful friend and such a gentleman, Ali. I felt safe with you. I still do."  
  
"Then know that when I say I see marriage in our future, that you will be safe with me. You can trust that this is best for us."  
  
Rose studied his face for a long while, her blue eyes searching for.something.  
  
"You look so sure of this decision," Rose finally declared. "How can you be so sure when we just recently discovered we felt something more than friendship for one another?"  
  
With a wry smile, Ali answered, "Because I felt something more for you for a long while. It didn't happen just recently for me. And I am so sure that destiny means for us to be together, that I announced it to my entire village tonight."  
  
"So that's what that little meeting was all about," Rose said. "Tell me, who was that old man who seemed to know who I was?"  
  
"Hammad. He is the eldest member of our tr.uh, village," Ali said, correcting the word "tribe" he almost allowed to slip. "He has much influence." He was also the Medjai prophet, in a manner of speaking, and Ali was somehow sure now that it was he who was responsible for Rose's picture being on the Cave of Prophecies' wall.  
  
"And your influence in this village? What exactly is it? I sensed from that meeting that you hold some power here," Rose guessed.  
  
"I do," Ali answered hesitantly. He was playing a volatile game with Rose. He needed to tell her the truth and not just bits and pieces here and there. He had confidence that she would understand, yet he felt unsure about confessing the entire tale in one setting. Perhaps if he eased her into it, she would willingly accept his role. Or perhaps, if he just came right out and told all, she'd simply laugh it off.  
  
No. He knew better than that. Rose wouldn't find it humorous, but he doubted she'd overreact as Yasmeen had insisted she would.  
  
Deciding to still play it safe, Ali began giving her some information about his role in the village, but not the entire truth.  
  
"My family has been with this village for several generations. In fact, it was my grandfather's leadership that finally settled our people here permanently. Before that, they had lived a more nomadic existence. The Bays have been the.leaders of this group of people since the time of ancient Egypt."  
  
Rose laughed and slapped her hand onto Ali's knee, squeezing playfully.  
  
"Ancient Egypt? Tell me another!" she jested.  
  
"Its true. Rose, remember, my country has been around for thousands of years. Your homeland is a mere infant compared to Egypt and her culture. Of course you cannot fathom being able to trace your lineage back so far. But I am the descendent of several generations of." Of what? Of mighty chiefs? Of great warriors? If Ali mentioned any of those titles, his entire secret would be revealed in an instant.  
  
Apparently not catching the missed ending to his statement, Rose then asked, "You mean, you're almost like royalty around here?"  
  
Ali shrugged. "In a manner of speaking. My role is important and lets just leave it at that." "Is that why you had to leave America? To come back here and help run your village?" Rose asked.  
  
Ali nodded. "Yes. It was my duty to return."  
  
"And your father? Did he run this place before you?"  
  
"He did. My father, however,.died.not too long ago," Ali answered. "A few months ago. Remember, I went out of town for a week."  
  
Rose wrinkled her fine brow with confusion. "You said you were going to a computer conference."  
  
"I know. I lied. I'm sorry. I came back here for the funeral. I didn't want to talk about it then."  
  
"You kept that from me?" Rose asked softly. "Why?"  
  
"I had to. It's complicated." He pushed to his feet and realized he had danced around the topic of his lineage as much as he could without tripping over his own feet. The time to confess was drawing near.  
  
"Everything lately seems to be complicated," Rose remarked. "I miss the simple life we had in California."  
  
"Simple?" Ali questioned back. "Southern California was a rat race."  
  
"I don't mean the place, I mean our life. It was simple. We walked to and from work together. Ate lunch together. Then we'd spend Friday night in watching a movie or Saturday doing something to pass the time." She paused and smiled wistfully. "I really miss movie and pizza nights. Does this village have a pizza parlor or video rental place by any chance?"  
  
Ali chuckled and shook his head looking up at the scattering of stars that were emerging in the heavens above. God, Allah, the ancient gods.whoever was responsible for the order of the universe had really blessed him with a confusing, wonderful woman.  
  
He turned and faced Rose, holding his hand out to her. She accepted and he yanked her from the ground into his arms.  
  
Grinning down at her, Ali said boldly, "You want simple? Just marry me, woman. I love you. It doesn't get any simpler than that."  
  
To punctuate his words, Ali kissed her. The desire that immediately coursed through his body made him wonder why he hadn't kissed her months before. He'd loved her for a long while now and perhaps it had taken the tragic events of late for him to fully realize his feelings. Whatever the reason, he had her in his arms now and was never going to part with her. He'd drop to his knees and beg her to be his wife if need be, but from the intense way Rose was responding to his touch and kiss, Ali was certain begging would not yet be necessary.  
  
Slowly, Ali pulled back from the kiss. Rose was breathing heavily and a faint flush was evident on her cheeks-even in the growing night. Ali nipped at her lips once more, then moved his mouth to the delicate skin of her throat. She moaned quietly and he trailed his kisses to her ear and demanded, "Say you will, my love. Say you'll be my wife."  
  
Ali knew of at least twenty women in the tribe who would have already screamed out their affirmative answer. He'd never been hurting for admirers among his people. Rose, however, was going to make him wait and test his patience, for she was enjoying his affection but not divulging the answer he was seeking.  
  
"Rose," he said urgently.  
  
With an audible groan, Rose pushed away from his tender nuzzling and said, "If you're going to be so persistent, I'll think about it."  
  
Ali stared at her with an amused expression upon his face. "Think about it, huh?"  
  
"It's the best answer you'll get from me tonight," Rose declared.  
  
An evil grin filling his bearded lips, Ali reached out and tugged on the Medjai necklace around Rose's neck. "Would you have given me the answer I wanted had I been your Medjai warrior?"  
  
Rose slapped his hand away and said, "He's not my anything! The man simply has me confused with a picture on a cave wall. I don't believe in destiny or myths or anything remotely resembling fiction. I want to be with you, Ali, and you only. And I do want to marry you.someday. I'm just not sure when."  
  
Recapturing her in his arms and marveling at how incredibly right she felt there, Ali teased, "I only hope someday is soon. After all, I did tell the village Council to expect a wedding very soon. And as for believing in destiny and myths-I do. Does that make me as insane as the Medjai?"  
  
"I never said he was insane. This is just such a vastly different land. And like you said, American is an infant-a child of the Enlightenment. Maybe because of that, our country has never had the opportunity to develop myths and legends worth believing in. Perhaps if I hang around here long enough, I'll start to believe in ancient fortresses and cave walls too."  
  
Ali laughed softly and kissed her cheek. "Perhaps, Rose."  
  
The night had descended upon them and Ali could hear the footsteps of Devraj and Yasmeen meandering back toward them. His private time with Rose was coming to an end and as much as he hated to, he was going to have to leave her for the night. Much work awaited him.  
  
"Well, since we've settled the entire marriage thing for tonight and agreed to think about it, what do you say we go back to your mom's place, make dinner and spend the night getting used to each other as more than friends?" Rose proposed.  
  
Ali was ready to curse the heavens for he was going to have to turn Rose down.  
  
"I'm sorry, darling. I can't," he declined. "I have much work to do."  
  
"Work? Don't tell me you have computer work out here too?" Rose asked.  
  
"Some," he answered truthfully, then added vaguely, "and other responsibilities as well."  
  
His mind was already leaving Rose and thinking about the tasks that awaited him. There were more satellite images to download from Ahmad at the university, air charter service websites to reexamine that he had already successfully hacked into, a banker to call in Switzerland and men to check on in the desert fifty miles away. His wants and desires would have to come later when his duties and responsibilities were fulfilled.  
  
Rose frowned then shrugged and released him from her hold. Ali felt cold without her body near.  
  
"All right," she said on a sigh. "I'll let you go.this time. But really Ali, if you want me to marry you, you're going to have to at least spend one dinner with me before the month is out."  
  
She was joking and Ali was glad her humor was still with her after all that had happened to her this past week.  
  
"One dinner," he promised.  
  
Devraj and Yasmeen arrived at that moment, and Ali noticed Yasmeen's mouth was in possession of a small, delighted smile. It was an expression he had not seen upon her face before and he wondered if his suspicions about Yasmeen finding interest in Devraj were true. It would be a blessing if it were true, for as troublesome as Yasmeen could be, Ali still shared a history with her and he wanted only her happiness.  
  
"Ali, are you through?" Devraj inquired in English as he stood, tall and broad, in front of his chief.  
  
"For the time being," he answered. Ali moved to loop an arm around Rose to escort her home, when Yasmeen stepped up and halted him.  
  
"You boys run along," Yasmeen insisted, wrapping her arm through Rose's with sisterly affection. "Us girls are going to stay here and gossip some."  
  
Ali threw Yasmeen a hard stare and she waved it off.  
  
"I promise, I'll be nice," she told him.  
  
Devraj nodded at Ali as if to confirm he believed Yasmeen's words and the two men turned to leave. It was a difficult task to do, leaving Rose along the banks of the river, but Ali had no choice. With nightfall came duty and as the new chief of the Medjai, he was prepared to serve the desert. **** 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
  
"You and Ali had a good conversation?" Yasmeen asked as soon as the men walked away. She released Rose's arm, but there was no force or malice in the act.  
  
"Good? Yes, I suppose," Rose answered. Then she caught Yasmeen's eye and asked, "Did you know he had plans to marry me?"  
  
Yasmeen nodded and moved toward the water. She stuck her bare foot into the river and said, "I knew. That is why I brought you to the Council meeting tonight. My father is very influential in the Council and he had other designs. Seeing you, however, changed his plans."  
  
Seeing her had changed his plans? Again Rose yearned for the simple, uncomplicated life she had been living in California. Though she had been hiding from her family, her life there made sense. Nothing in this country made an ounce of sense to her-except for the way she felt about Ali. Otherwise, every event was shocking and each new conversation left her feeling more and more confused. Wasn't this little village just a tiny spot on the map with a people who were uncomplicated and traditional? Isn't that what she was supposed to be discovering instead of this strange web of vague conversations and disappearing boyfriends with duties to fulfill?  
  
"What does that mean?" Rose inquired.  
  
"It means what it means," Yasmeen answered. "My father had plans for Ali, you changed those plans."  
  
"Your father had plans for Ali? That makes no sense," Rose insisted, then felt the breath catch in her lungs as she realized just what Yasmeen was saying. "Unless, your father was trying to get you and Ali together."  
  
Yasmeen shrugged. "Perhaps. But it is of little consequence now, because you are to be Ali's wife, not me."  
  
Rose frowned and said, "But I have not yet said yes-not exactly. How do you know I will be his wife?"  
  
"Because you will be. He loves you. He only declared it to the entire village tonight and publicly defied my father. I was there when he told everyone he did not love me and loved you."  
  
"Yasmeen, I'm sorry," Rose replied, never having wanted Yasmeen's feelings crushed by this entire situation.  
  
"It is okay, really," the woman assured Rose. "I realized something these past few days, and that is, I don't love Ali. I care for him, of course, because we have such a long history of knowing one another. But I don't love him and he does not love me. Nor did he ever love me-not really. In fact, I do believe the only woman who has ever claimed his heart is you. And it was obviously meant to be."  
  
"Meant to be? All this talk of destiny and fate is really driving me nuts," Rose insisted. "This is a strange place, Yasmeen, and I really wish someone would fill me in on what this village is really all about."  
  
Yasmeen smiled with conspiracy and asked, "So Ali has not told you the entire history of our people?"  
  
"No. He's told me some, but I have a feeling he's been leaving gaps in the story," Rose answered. "Perhaps you could fill me in?"  
  
Yasmeen shook her head and any trace of a smile disappeared from her lips. "And suffer Ali's wrath when he discovers I was the one who let his secrets out of the bag? No. I am sorry, but I will not."  
  
"So I was right in thinking that there is something Ali has not told me about himself," Rose commented. Since they'd arrived in Egypt, Ali had been acting as though there was something about him he was trying to avoid confessing to her. When they'd been friends, he'd always been rather private, but now it seemed amplified, something bigger than just wanting mere privacy.  
  
"It is not a bad thing, Rose," Yasmeen assured her. "Do not worry so."  
  
Rose dropped the topic for the time being and again sat down on the sandy bank of the river. The night sky looked like a dark velvet blanket with the stars as pinholes of light shining through. A warm breeze carried with it the smell of the desert and Rose marveled at how tranquil a place this lonely village was.  
  
She took in a deep breath and exhaled noisily. Though there was much she did not yet know about her future, just being in this place made her feel as though she had nothing to fear. Nothing to fear from Victor, her father or even the Medjai. She was happy here and knew she would remain so as long as she lived here with Ali and the new friend she was finally making in Yasmeen.  
  
"Tell me about this place, Yasmeen. Tell me about the people," Rose insisted and for a long while Yasmeen obliged her and together they sat along the sandy bank talking of the village and the traditions. Not once, however, did Yasmeen mention the Medjai or her people's most honored tradition of protecting ancient Egypt's secrets.  
  
They talked of their pasts and their childhood and Yasmeen amused Rose with stories of Ali as a boy. His incorrigible actions would have seemed out of character for the Ali Rose had known in California, but most accurate for the man she knew here in Egypt. And their stories continued until they both fell asleep along the banks of the running water. **** Victor Galbadon and Oscar Mann were becoming fast friends. Tony stood at the edge of the room, near the open door, watching the two converse. The more he watched and listened, the more nauseous he grew. Both were maniacal, twisted and perverse. He had always known Victor harbored a dark side. That dark side had driven Rosa away. Yet the things Tony was hearing now coming from his mouth in agreement with this man they had joined forces with was down right scary. Part of Tony had always liked Victor. After listening to he and Oscar talk for the past hour, Tony now liked nothing about him.  
  
How then, was he supposed to ditch Victor and their newfound "friends" and rescue his sister? If his sister even needed rescuing. After all, the group that had taken her and the other woman seemed a far better option for Rosa than going back home or falling into Victor's hands. And that beautiful woman Rosa had been with had willingly jumped onto the back of a horse with a Medjai warrior. She'd been smiling with triumph at the rescue, in fact.  
  
"What do you say, Tony?" Victor suddenly called across the room of the shabby hotel suite they had acquired. "Think that's a plan?"  
  
"Is what a plan?" Tony asked.  
  
Victor threw him a look of annoyance for Tony's inattention, then said, "Oscar here has asked us to join him. Says he has a scheme that'll make us a bundle."  
  
"Yes, and I could use the assistance seeing how I am a few men short now, thanks to the Medjai," Oscar chimed in.  
  
Tony didn't like a thing about Oscar Mann. There was a baneful look in his eye and when he smiled, Tony was positive he was staring at a serpent and not a man. Only pure evil existed in that man's soul and Tony could recognize evil for he had been raised amongst it.  
  
"The Medjai appear to be your common enemy then," Tony drawled.  
  
"The Medjai are our common enemy, Tony," Victor corrected, piercing him with that look of distrust that Tony's father often directed his way as well. It was no secret Alfonse San Giovani didn't trust his only son. Because Tony had balked at getting involved in the family business, Alfonse had found someone else to become his confidant. Therefore, Tony was not privy to family business and his father thought him a traitor for that.  
  
"Yeah, sure. Our enemy," Tony mumbled.  
  
A bunch of robed men on horseback were certainly not Tony's enemy. The Chicago Mafia, Oscar Mann and even Victor were his enemy, but certainly not a group of desert warriors. In fact, the more Tony was learning of the legendary tribe, the more he wished they had captured him along with his sister, just so he would no longer have to suffer the company of these men in front of him.  
  
"Anyhow," Victor continued, "Oscar here has suggested we join him. He'll help us get Rosa back, we'll help him find this ancient temple he's seeking. Says this place is worth a fortune. I always heard Egypt had buried treasures everywhere."  
  
"This treasure is worth more than you could ever imagine," Oscar said.  
  
Again Tony saw that serpent smile cross the man's face. Disgusted, he turned and walked out the door.  
  
The village they'd landed in wasn't much, but it was a better sight than that broken down Range Rover he'd been stuck in during last night's sandstorm. The pilot had said that flying back to Cairo was too dangerous, for the authorities were looking for Oscar and his group. Apparently, Oscar's group had murdered someone in Cairo, which didn't shock Tony any. So, they'd opted for a small village with a dirt road for a landing strip and a metal shed for a hangar and this shabby hotel that barely passed as adequate, just to be safe.  
  
Outside, Tony bumped into the only man among the group that didn't strike him as evil, Jean Danton. He was an older man, probably in his fifties, with a bumbling, scholarly look about him. He was seated on a wooden chair, fiddling with a long stick, his face filled with frustration.  
  
"Mind if I join you?" Tony questioned as he took a seat next to the man.  
  
"Be my guest," the man answered with his hint of a French accent mingled with his English. "I suppose I could use the company right about now."  
  
The man carefully set the object on the patio table in front of him and sighed.  
  
"What's that?" Tony asked, nodding toward what now looked like a staff and not a stick.  
  
"It's an ancient relic-The Staff of the Sun," Jean said.  
  
"May I?" Tony asked as he reached for the staff.  
  
"Be my guest. I'm about ready to break the blasted thing," the man declared.  
  
Tony ran his hand over the fine carved ivory of the staff. It was nearly five-foot long and topped with a disc-shaped gold symbol. He was positive it was an artifact worth much and he mentioned so to Jean.  
  
"Oh, it's worth quite a bit indeed," Jean announced. "But if legend is true, its power could be worth an incalculable amount."  
  
"Power?" Tony laughed. "What kind of power?" He figured he'd ask just to humor the man, though Tony was certain it was merely the ramblings of a man who'd been exposed to the desert sun for one too many days.  
  
Looking around to ensure their privacy, Jean lowered his voice and whispered, "It is written that this staff, if used at the Fortress of Aten, can create a time warp and catapult someone back to the past."  
  
"And you believe this?" Tony questioned.  
  
Jean nodded. "Like I said, it is written."  
  
"And just where is it written?"  
  
Jean pointed to the carvings on the ivory shaft of the staff. "Right there on the staff itself. Of course, it's more of a riddle than anything else, but that is the common interpretation."  
  
Again thinking the man was stretching the truth, but finding he'd rather talk with the Frenchman than anyone inside the hotel suite, Tony asked, "If that's true, then why aren't there more people out here looking for this thing?"  
  
"Because no one can find the Fortress of Aten for one thing. And for another thing, if they did come close, the Medjai would attack."  
  
"The Medjai? Yes, I can see how they would scare people away. After all, they did almost kill us," Tony surmised.  
  
"Then you know the fierceness with which they fight," Jean said gleefully. "Both our groups have been their victims. We are lucky to still be living at all. And I'm afraid that Monsieur Mann angered them further by assassinating their chief a few months back."  
  
"How'd he manage that?"  
  
Jean touched the staff. "With this."  
  
"What? He whacked the chief over the head with it or something?"  
  
Jean chuckled and shook his head. "No, no. You see, I have done extensive research into this relic and into the Fortress of Aten. It has been my life's ambition and on an archaeological dig a few years back, I discovered an ancient scroll that talked of the Staff of the Sun. It said the staff not only turned the Fortress of Aten into a time machine of sorts, but that it also gave one the powers of second sight."  
  
"What do you mean by that?" Tony was wondering if perhaps going back inside to Victor and Oscar's company was a better idea after all. This historian was starting to sound like he had spent several months too many in the desert sun.  
  
"Ah, you do not believe me. But no matter, most never have. For years, I have been mocked by my colleagues. My articles are turned down by academic journals, my chances of finding a job at a reputable university are non- existent-all because I believe in this staff and its powers. In fact, Monsieur Mann was the only person who truly believed in my theories. He's funding this expedition-and quite generously I might add."  
  
"I'm sure he is," Tony remarked dryly. "But how do you know this staff really has any powers?"  
  
"I'll show you," Jean insisted and he took the staff from Tony, holding it upright in front of him with two hands and commanded, "Show me the Fortress of Aten."  
  
A three dimensional hologram of a canyon and ancient temple sprang up in front of them and Tony nearly fell out of his seat. It appeared as if the golden disc was projecting the image into thin air and for a long while Tony was certain it was a joke.  
  
"This is fake, right?" Tony asked, still not believing his eyes. "You're playing a huge joke on me."  
  
"No, its real," Jean said and took one of his hands off the staff, causing the image to disappear. "The only problem is, it gives vague pictures only. I have not yet figured out how to read it well."  
  
"That can't be real," Tony argued. "It just can't be."  
  
Jean handed the relic to Tony. "Here, you try. Ask to see something or someone I would not know. Go on, ask it."  
  
Hesitantly, Tony took the staff in his hands and imitating Jean he ordered, "Show me my sister, Rosa San Giovani."  
  
Again, a holographic image shot from the golden disc and hung before the men in thin air. Rosa was lying on the bank of a river, another woman a few feet away. They were sleeping peacefully and Tony would have smiled at the image had he not been so stunned.  
  
"Wow!" he said. "Its real. How strange."  
  
He continued to look at the image, thankful his sister was all right, but awed by the workings of the artifact.  
  
"And it'll give you any image you ask for?" Tony inquired.  
  
"Any image in Egypt. At least, that's what the legend states. I guess there's just something very mystical about this land, forces that we don't quite understand that operate without our knowledge and control this staff. The only trouble is, I can see the image, but I cannot locate it once its shown. The staff uses no discernible directions or coordinates."  
  
Tony again looked at the image of his sister sleeping, a small village in the background, the starry night sky above. He wished he were there with her instead of in the company of lunatics.  
  
"You can't use the stars to navigate?" Tony questioned out of curiosity. "I mean, if you have an exact date and time and plug your star positions into a special software program, you should be able to find an exact spot on the earth."  
  
"The stars?" Jean asked, aghast. He took another look at the image and suddenly howled with laughter. "That's it! You are a genius! That is the key-the stars. All the while I was reading this in daylight, thinking it must work in conjunction with the sun to give direction. But it doesn't. It uses the stars as navigational keys."  
  
The man grabbed the staff from Tony and the image of Rosa disappeared into the night. Quickly the Frenchman ran into the hotel suite, shouting out this new discovery to the men inside while Tony sunk into his chair and exhaled with dread. What had he done?  
  
**** He sat upon his horse, a dark rider upon a dark stallion, staring down at the two women. He sighed with relief, then pulled his two-way radio off his belt and notified Devraj that he'd found them. Leave it to Rose and Yasmeen to place fear in his heart! They were two women who refused to follow any predictable protocol and it shouldn't have surprised him he'd find them sleeping soundly along the riverbank where he'd left them several hours earlier.  
  
It was still dark out, though it wouldn't be for much longer. Ali and Devraj had already accomplished much having worked all night. They'd reached Tarek in Switzerland, finding out that large amounts of money had been moved from a German shipping company's account in Switzerland here to Egypt. The owner of the company was a man named Oscar Mann and his money had been used to make some interesting purchases in Egypt-guns, ammo, vehicles, communication equipment and a chartered helicopter. With that information, Ali then traced the helicopter transaction and found the name of an air service at the end-Pyramid Air. From there, he was able to use his computer to hack into their company's computer files and look at their records. Oscar Mann's name was on the lease to a helo!  
  
It appeared as if this Oscar Mann was a prime suspect and Ali already had people trying to dig into his background. He hoped they had something substantial by today so that he could either cross this man off their list or confirm he was the one who was funding this expedition to the Fortress of Aten.  
  
With those projects finished or underway, he and Devraj had then driven a Jeep the fifty miles into the desert, taking an indirect route to the Fortress of Aten to check on their men. It was a very desolate location where the fortress was located and one had to know the secret entrance to even enter the pathway to the fortress. Because the Pharaoh Amenhotep had been so meticulous in the design and placement of the fortress, no outsider had looked upon it for hundreds of years. Of course, there were rumors about the fortress and ancient records about it, but the placement of the fortress and the vigilance of the Medjai had kept the fortress safe from invaders. Ali did not plan to become the first Medjai chief to fail in that regard.  
  
With his men doing fine on their desert watch and in communication with the village, Ali and Devraj had returned, deciding to take a ride through the night to settle their nerves before sleep. Before leaving for their ride, however, Ali had sneaked into his mother's house to check on Rose. He tasted fear when he saw her bed empty and quickly ran to Yasmeen's dwelling, which she shared with her father. Her room too was empty and Ali and Devraj mounted their horses to search the village before sounding an alarm. Of course, ten minutes later, Ali discovered them asleep where he had left them, and he could breath easy again.  
  
Pulling his veil over his face, Ali jumped from his horse and moved to stand next to Rose. He was able to bend down and actually touch her shoulder before her eyes opened with awareness of another presence.  
  
"Hello, my love," he whispered to her, again disguising his voice with a stronger accent as he had done before to avoid detection.  
  
Rose's eyes shot open with shock, then she nearly jumped out from under his hand, pushing back away from him, her heels and hands digging into the sand. She bumped into Yasmeen who also sprang awake with surprise until her eyes landed upon Ali and she visibly relaxed.  
  
"Go away, Medjai," Rose warned, fear filling her face.  
  
"Is that anyway to talk to your future husband?" Ali asked with humor.  
  
Rose glared at him with impatience and so did Yasmeen. Standing and brushing the sand from her light colored skirt, Yasmeen said, "Yes, please leave us alone, my lord. We really should return to our homes now."  
  
Yasmeen reached out and clasped Rose's hand, ready to pull her away, when Ali heard Devraj's approach and asked, "Are you so certain you want to run off now ladies? My warrior and myself were just about to ask you to join us for a morning ride."  
  
Ali saw Yasmeen hesitate at his offer. During their drive to the Fortress of Aten, Devraj had revealed that he and Yasmeen had gotten along well during their talk by the river earlier in the evening. He even thought perhaps there was some attraction between them, but had not explored it further for it was still strange to him to consider Yasmeen loving anyone other than Ali. Since they'd been children, Yasmeen had vied for Ali's affections and now that she was sending subtle signals Devraj's way, the warrior was hesitant to read too much into them. Ali hoped to push them together a bit more and this ride was the perfect opportunity. It was also the perfect opportunity to reveal himself to Rose.  
  
"A ride?" Rose asked, aghast. "Do you really think I would voluntarily leave this village to go into the desert with you? I'm thankful you saved my life and all, but really, I'm not leaving this place now that I'm here. And since you've mentioned marriage again, I think you should know that my friend, Ali, has asked me to marry him."  
  
"Asked? That is all?" Ali questioned. "He has not persuaded you to say yes yet?"  
  
"I'm thinking about it," Rose answered. "And I'm really starting to think I should."  
  
"Do not marry him just to avoid me," Ali warned.  
  
"Its no avoidance maneuver," Rose insisted. "I love him."  
  
Ali smiled widely under his veil. It was the first confession of true love on her part and it warmed his soul.  
  
"Ah, then you have chosen your fate, Rose," he said.  
  
"And you'll accept that?" Rose questioned, her voice full of suspicion.  
  
"Of course. You have chosen with your heart, have you not?"  
  
Rose nodded. Then she reached up and unclasped the Medjai necklace she wore around her neck. "Here, you really should have this back," she offered.  
  
Ali shook his head. "No, keep it, along with my heart, my love. It is a sign of my honor and protection. Wear it always and you will be safe in this land."  
  
A small smile crept up her face and she looked up at him with bright blue eyes. "Thank you. I won't forget you anytime soon."  
  
"Nor shall I," he replied. Then he swung up onto the back of his horse and extended his hand down to her. "Please, oblige me one request. Ride with me and I will tell you news of your brother. I will not take you far."  
  
Rose visibly balked and looked back at Yasmeen. Devraj arrived at that moment, his gray steed most impatient to run as it danced from foot to foot. Yasmeen smiled and nodded her head. She gave Rose a small push and said, "One ride. What harm will it do, Rose? We'll go together and you can ask him about your brother." When Rose still hesitated, Yasmeen added, "We can trust the Medjai. They will not take us far and they will return us safely."  
  
Rose nodded and reached up, clasping Ali's hand. She used the stirrup to swing onto the back of the horse, then lightly held on to his waist.  
  
"Just don't think this is some sort of date, Medjai," Rose drawled. "It's just a ride."  
  
"I will be a perfect gentleman," Ali returned as he lightly nudged Raja with his heals and cantered into the desert. **** She was insane, she knew she was. Why else was she riding through the desert at night with the same Medjai warrior who had captured her not three days earlier?  
  
Rose justified her decision by telling herself that she did owe the man something after he'd risked his life for her and also that she needed to hear his news of Tony. Of course, she'd risked her life for him as well, so technically they were even. Yet there was something intriguing about riding through the desert night with a warrior and his horse. It conjured up visions of centuries past when heroes and heroines did just that. Even Yasmeen was interested for she was holding tightly to her warrior, her face filled with pure enjoyment as the wind whipped at her long hair. The freedom of the desert at night was infectious, and though Rose was riding behind a warrior and not Ali, she still smiled.  
  
The horses ran for ten minutes, then climbed up a series of switchbacks carved into a cliff wall. Rose was dismayed to discover she had to cling tightly to the man in front of her to avoid sliding off the back of the horse as it climbed. When they reached the top, however, the view was worth the effort.  
  
"We are here," the warrior announced as he stopped his horse near the edge of the cliff. "Dismount."  
  
Rose began to swing off the back of the horse and the warrior assisted her by holding her arm as she dismounted. Then he jumped from his horse and walked to the cliff's edge.  
  
"There," he said, pointing into the distance. "That is your village."  
  
Rose moved next to him and gazed into the distance. There was a small patch of lights indicating the presence of the village and the river next to it was illuminated with shimmering light from the full moon. It was a grand view and Rose was glad she had experienced it.  
  
"Its lovely from up here," Rose commented. "And so small."  
  
"Just wait, Rose," Yasmeen suddenly interjected from a few feet to Rose's left. "When the sun peaks over those foothills to the east of our village, it's a grand sight."  
  
And Yasmeen was correct. As the first bright rays of sunlight kissed the light brown adobe structures of the village, it created the illusion of gold. The tiny village appeared to be coated with layers of yellow-gold and for a brief moment, it was ablaze in the sun's early light. The illusion came and went quickly, but for that one moment in time, it was the most beautiful sight Rose had ever seen.  
  
"It looked like something out of a fairy tale," Rose said in awe. Then she turned to gaze upon the warrior standing at her side. "Thank you for bringing me here."  
  
He bowed his head slightly, then reached out and touched the necklace around her neck. His finger's barely brushed her skin in the process and she felt a strange energy from his touch. Only Ali's fingers had ever created that sensation upon her skin and she took a step back as she remembered him.  
  
"Please, don't," she said quietly. He obliged and returned his hand to his side and Rose again looked across the desert at the view of her new homeland. She yearned for Ali. She wished he were standing at her side and racing her through the desert instead of this warrior. Though she liked the warrior, she loved Ali and in that moment she made a decision about her future.  
  
"Could you return me to the village now?" she turned and asked the warrior. "I'm tired and I want to find Ali."  
  
The man hesitated for a moment and Rose feared he would not return her to the village. Then he asked, "Do you not want the news of your brother?"  
  
"Of course," Rose answered. "Please tell me what you know."  
  
"We did not find him or any of his acquaintances in the place where we left them. The vehicles were still there, but no men anywhere." He paused and a dark look invaded his eyes.  
  
"What? What is it?" Rose prodded.  
  
"I fear your brother's group has combined forces with the men seeking the Fortress of Aten. I have no solid proof, aside from evidence of a helicopter landing, but my gut tells me that Jeffreys has connected the two groups," the warrior revealed.  
  
Rose sighed. At least it sounded as if her brother was well. This new collaboration, however, had her nervous.  
  
"I thank you for looking for him. And please, if you find the group you are seeking and it is true that my brother is among them, don't harm him," Rose requested.  
  
The warrior's eyes shuttered away from her, as if he was going to refuse to grant her wish.  
  
"Please," Rose pleaded and placed a hand upon his arm. "He has nothing to do with any of this. He's simply along for the ride, looking to protect me. He's not a criminal like Victor. He's not."  
  
"Then I will ensure his safety when we find them," the warrior promised. "Because I love you, I will grant you your wish."  
  
Rose balked at his words. She feared that if this warrior truly believed he loved her that she would never live in peace. Her mind conjured up images of the Medjai stealing her away in the night to be forced into a marriage with their chief. She didn't want to live with the threat of this man's love for the rest of her life as he had lived with the threat of Victor's for the past five years.  
  
"Please, take me home," Rose requested with a whisper.  
  
The warrior surprisingly nodded and then strode to his horse, swinging upon its back with lithe athleticism.  
  
Rose admired his movements and the look of him upon the midnight black horse and again thought he made a perfect heroic figure. She could appreciate the brave picture he made and wondered if Ali possessed any warrior skills. She'd always respected Ali's keen intelligence and controlled demeanor, but never until this moment had she wondered or cared if he could fight off a band of bandits with just a sword. When they'd been in California, Rose certainly would have laughed at such a thought. After what she'd witnessed of him in Egypt, she was actually starting to believe he could be this very same warrior upon the Arabian horse in front of her.  
  
"Shall we?" the warrior asked as he held out his hand to her.  
  
Rose nodded and climbed onto the back of the horse. Yasmeen followed suit with the other warrior and within moments, they were descending the cliff and galloping back across the sand toward the village. ****  
  
Ali halted his horse on the bank of the river, the spot where he'd found Rose and Yasmeen and assisted Rose to the ground. Her bare feet sunk into the sand and she brushed at her skirt and readjusted her shirt that had slipped off one shoulder, revealing the smooth, tanned skin underneath. The ride had not been long enough to satisfy him. He'd enjoyed the feel of her behind him, holding on tightly as they'd raced through the sands and he wanted to ride further into the desert with her.  
  
He'd also not yet accomplished his goal, and that was to tell Rose who he really was. Ali had considered doing just that when they'd been atop the cliff, but he'd changed his mind at the last moment for the timing had not seemed right.  
  
Who was he kidding-the timing wasn't ever going to be right! Rose would be disappointed in him whether he told her now or later. She'd understand, but she'd be disappointed.  
  
"Well," Rose began as she looked up at him, "thanks for the ride. I guess I'll be seeing you next time I'm held hostage in the desert."  
  
She turned to walk away and Ali felt a pang of guilt wash over him. Rose really had no idea who he was! She didn't even suspect him. Realizing that he could not allow her to make a decision about marrying him without being aware of the entire truth, Ali jumped from his horse and said, "Rose, wait."  
  
Rose halted and swung back toward him.  
  
"There is something you need to know about me before you go," he continued, trying to screw up the courage to reveal himself.  
  
He could face death in the desert and dangerous enemies, but he could not tell the woman he loved the truth about his identity. It struck him as odd that he was such a coward when he was faced with the possibility of losing her. Yet now was the time, he could wait no more.  
  
"My lord," a voice suddenly announced in Arabic.  
  
Ali halted his hand on its way to his veil and he looked up the dirt path that led to the village and saw Hammad tottering their way. The old warrior was dressed in a white gambaz and light beige pants, his feet covered in sandals. He smiled at Ali and continued to move forward.  
  
"My lord," Hammad continued, "I thought I saw you racing across the desert this morning."  
  
"Hammad," Ali said with reverence in the same language, "it is good to see you well this morning."  
  
The old man laughed and returned, "It is good to see me well any morning at my age! But I did not seek you out to talk of my health. I came to inquire of Rose. Have you revealed yourself to her yet?"  
  
Ali shook her head. "I was about to."  
  
"Do not do so now. Now is not the time," Hammad insisted. "You both look unrested. Take the day, rest, relax, then tell her."  
  
Ali studied the man for a long while. Hammad always seemed to know how the course of events would unfold. Whether he was good at guessing, extremely wise or really had the gift of some extraordinary power was the mystery, but Ali never questioned him.  
  
"Of course, Hammad. I will," Ali answered. To Rose he said in English, "I will bid you farewell now, Rose."  
  
****  
  
She smiled and waved and he swung onto his horse and rode away, Devraj following behind. He would leave the mystery of his identity in tact as Hammad had requested and tell Rose tonight. That dark, mysterious warrior was riding off again and Rose was slightly relieved. Life was simpler without a super hero complicating everything. He had showed her a brilliant sight, but she was glad to be back to the village she was beginning to feel welcomed in. And the old man standing on the path in front of she and Yasmeen was one of the people who truly made her feel welcomed.  
  
Hammad looked at her with a twinkle in his dark eyes and gestured for the Rose to join him. She took his arm, still strong at his age, and walked beside him while Yasmeen fell into step behind them.  
  
"How are you, my dear?" he inquired as they walked. His accent was not nearly as thick as one would suspect and his English impeccable.  
  
"I'm fine," Rose answered, feeling completely at ease with the old man and wondering if perhaps she hadn't met him somewhere before.  
  
"Good. I am glad for that. How do you like our small village thus far?"  
  
"I like it," she returned. "Its peaceful."  
  
"And the Medjai? What do you think of our local warriors?"  
  
Rose paused and regarded him with a furrowed brow.  
  
"Local? Just how local?" she asked.  
  
"They have been in these parts for centuries," he answered. "Their history is long and honored."  
  
"Have you ever seen them without the veils?" she inquired.  
  
They were reaching the first dwellings in the village. Though the morning was still new, several people were starting their day. Rose noticed that more than a few eyes strayed to her and regarded her with much curiosity just as had been the case the night before at the Council meeting. She thought perhaps it was because the scarf covering her head was draped across her shoulders instead of being worn in the traditional fashion. Yet several other women about the village were not covered and some were even dressed in pants instead of skirts. She was certain that was not the case. It must surely then only have to do with the fact that she was new-an outsider whom Ali had insisted he planned to marry. Of course that made her a novelty until people got to know her. And she hoped that soon she would be able to spend some time amongst the villagers, amongst Ali's people, acquainting herself with them all.  
  
He nodded. "I have. On several occasions." His smile held a hint of conspiracy and Rose felt a strange vibe emanating from the old man's demeanor that told her he knew much of the desert warriors. "You will too, very soon. After all, your image is depicted upon their Cave of Prophecies and you cannot deny your destiny."  
  
Rose's feet froze at the old man's words. Was he telling her the same fantasy that the Medjai chief had told her in the cave during the sandstorm? Did this old man seriously believe in that same myth that she was to marry the Mejai chief? When the Medjai warrior had uttered such absurdity, Rose had not felt the same amount of fear she was feeling now that Hammad was saying it. His tone, his words were confident and convincing and Rose's first instinct was to run from the man. Knowing that would be rude, she politely released his arm and shook her head.  
  
"No, that wasn't me on that cave wall," she refuted. "I don't want anything to do with any other man other than Ali. Ali is the reason I'm here."  
  
"Yes, Ali is the reason you are here," the man agreed.  
  
"And Ali will be the only reason I stay," Rose added.  
  
It was the old man's turn to shake his head. "No, you also stay because of the danger you face at home. But do not fear, my child, your father will not have you under his control again. Your future lies in this desert and with the Medjai."  
  
He clasped her hand, squeezing it with surprising strength, then turned and walked away before Rose could refute anything he'd declared. Looking at Yasmeen, knowing her face was turning red from the anger and confusion she was experiencing, Rose asked, "Did you hear what he said?"  
  
"I heard," Yasmeen said, then added reassuringly, "But do not fret so. I am positive all will work out for the best." Yasmeen turned Rose and began pushing her up a long flight of steps between buildings that led to the next level of the village. "Lets get you home. I am sure Ali will be by to see you shortly."  
  
Rose returned to Iman's house only to find the woman gone. Yasmeen left Rose and as she shut the door behind the woman, she yawned and stretched her arms over her head.  
  
She was exhausted and slightly stiff from sleeping on the ground. In fact, she was so tired she didn't even have the energy to worry over Hammad's words to her about the Medjai.  
  
Stepping into the bathroom, Rose washed her face, brushed the tangles from her hair that the wild morning ride had created and brushed her teeth. She was almost asleep as she made her way into the small bedroom she was using and stripped out of her borrowed clothes. She didn't even bother to dawn a T-shirt to sleep in. The circular movements of the air made by the ceiling fan were cool against her skin and Rose slipped between the sheets of the double bed and immediately drifted off to sleep dreaming of wild Arabian horses, soft desert sands and a band of cloaked warriors. **** 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12  
  
Ali stood at the foot of Rose's bed watching her sleep peacefully. It was a sight he was used to, but not one he could ever grow tired of. Back in California, on many a Friday night, Rose would fall asleep on his couch or floor during the video they had rented. She'd always picked out the movie, insisting it was one she just had to see, then would fall soundly asleep before the conclusion. Ali would never wake her during those Friday nights, for watching her sleep peacefully, so beautiful in her slumber, had been a time he had always cherished.  
  
Now, he cherished the sight more. Especially after he had almost lost her on more than one occasion in the past week. After the ordeals they'd already experienced this week, he would never take anything about Rose for granted, for he realized how easily it could all be taken away from him- just as his father had been taken away from him by the man he'd killed in the cave.  
  
Ali shook such thoughts from his mind and focused on the steady rise and fall of Rose's chest as she slept. Her shoulders were bare, her hair splayed out on the pillow around her head. She was indeed the most beautiful woman he had ever known and in that instant he realized he could not wait a moment longer to hear her say she would marry him. He knew she would say yes now, for she had said as much to him this morning when he'd surprised her by the river.  
  
Lying on the bed next to her, Ali kissed her forehead and brushed his fingers through her silky-fine hair. She murmured in her sleep, like he remembered her doing so often in California, and then sighed softly. Not satisfied with the response, Ali placed his hand upon her cheek and guided her lips to his. Her kiss was sweet and warm and she awoke slowly as his mouth claimed hers.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked him, her eyes fluttering open and a small smile invading her lips.  
  
"Watching you sleep," he answered quietly.  
  
"Watching?" Her grin grew sly as she tugged on the sheets and suggested, "Why not join me?"  
  
The look in Ali's eye was that of exhaustion as well. It was obvious he had not slept all night either and Rose would have inquired of his activities, but she herself had barely fallen asleep and her mind was too groggy to inquire of details. Besides, the look of him next to her in his faded Levi's and white T-shirt, smelling cleanly showered, begged to be seduced and she was planning on doing just that.  
  
"If I did that, we wouldn't get much sleeping done," he replied wryly.  
  
"Who says I planned on us accomplishing sleep first," Rose returned. She ran a hand across his chest. His muscles were taut and well defined. "I've made a decision, Ali, and I think we should celebrate."  
  
Ali smiled because he had a feeling he knew what Rose had decided. But he was enjoying her touching and teasing too much to spoil it by letting on that he knew. Instead, he asked, "And what decision might that be?"  
  
"I've decided that I will marry you."  
  
"I already knew you would-someday. You confessed that as much last night, darling. But what I want to know is when." Ali prodded her along by running a finger down her bare shoulder and arm. He watched as she shivered from his touch. And it was not a shiver of fear, but of pure enjoyment.  
  
"Well, as soon as it can be arranged," she announced. "Why wait? I love you. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone else upon this planet. And after what you have done for me this past week, I know you love me in return."  
  
They kissed then, for a long while. It was simple and warm to begin with, then slowly turned heated and passionate. Again Rose wondered why it had taken two years for them to realize the attraction. The fire between them blazed quickly and it should have been obvious to her sooner that she and Ali were made for one another. There was no use belaboring the past, however, so Rose pushed those thoughts out of her mind and concentrated on the man in her arms.  
  
As their kisses turned to hurried caresses, Rose assisted Ali off with his T-shirt. That's when she saw them; dark blue-green tattoos upon his chest. She was shocked at the sight of them upon his olive skin and she halted all desires to study them closely. Over each breast was an identical crescent-shaped symbol about two-inches long and above his navel were five ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. He'd never told her he possessed such marks and she'd never chanced to see them before today.  
  
"What are those?" Rose stopped to ask. She lightly traced the flowing calligraphy of the symbols with her fingers.  
  
Ali bit back an oath, having forgot all about the marks upon his chest. His tribe had once placed these same marks upon their faces to signify their heritage, but after his grandfather's reign as chief, the next generation began to mark their chests to better conceal their identities in the vastly changing world. He'd never mentioned to Rose that he possessed them, so it was more than likely a shock to her.  
  
Summoning up humor, Ali drawled, "Those are tattoos, Rose."  
  
"Yes, I can see that. But how strange that you have any," she commented. "Where'd you get them and when?"  
  
Pushing up to an elbow to gaze down at Rose, Ali answered playfully, "I believe it was one night in Morocco when the boys and I had way too much to drink."  
  
Yanking the pillow out from under his elbow and causing him to crash back to the mattress, Rose chastised, "Be serious! You don't drink and frankly, picturing you out carousing with the boys just isn't your style. You're entirely too boring and conservative for that."  
  
"Boring and conservative?" Ali asked back with mock anger. He pinned Rose to the mattress and declared, "Just for that, I may decide to make you wait another two years to let you have me."  
  
"You may want to reconsider that threat, darling. The Medjai were by again this morning and their chief still insists he wants me," Rose conveyed.  
  
"The Medjai, huh?" Ali repeated as he rolled off of Rose. "What did they want?"  
  
"They brought me news of my brother. Apparently they couldn't find Tony or any of Victor's group. I'm a bit worried, but I'll save that for later."  
  
"Is that all the news they brought?" Ali inquired.  
  
"Yes. But I should confess to you that Yasmeen and I took a ride with them. A very short ride through the desert."  
  
Ali reached out and wrapped a strand of her brunette hair around his finger. Blonde highlights, compliments of the sun, were starting to appear in her silky strands.  
  
"Is that why you smell like the sands?" he inquired.  
  
"You're not upset, are you? It was just a ride."  
  
Shaking his head, Ali answered, "You are certainly capable of making your own decisions. And the Medjai are greatly trusted in these parts. If they came to simply take you on a tour and tell you of your brother, that is all they came to do. Besides, I know you love only me. No Medjai chief could steal you away."  
  
Rose smiled. "That's what I told him." Then she trailed her finger over the symbols on his chest and asked again, "Where'd you get these?"  
  
"It's simply a family tradition. Nothing more," Ali simplified.  
  
"And do they mean something?"  
  
Rose's hand was still upon his chest, tracing the symbols and making him forget all about his history and duties.  
  
Grabbing her to him, causing the sheets to slip away and reveal that she was wearing virtually nothing, Ali growled, "I cannot remember what they mean now with you touching me. All sense of history evades me with you in my arms. I demand you make love to me now and restore all sense to my mind."  
  
Rose giggled lowly, then nodded and placed her hands on either side of Ali's handsome face.  
  
"I'd love too, honey," she agreed and met his lips and they began their first journey as lovers and as soon to be husband and wife.  
  
****  
  
"I'd ask for a repeat performance," Rose said upon a sigh, a long while later, "but I'm too exhausted."  
  
Ali smiled at her and kissed her forehead. "I know the feeling. We should rest."  
  
Rose nodded and turned in his arms, reveling in the feel of his naked chest pressing against her bare back. Every touch, every caress of the passion they'd just shared had been heavenly and even though she was near complete exhaustion, Rose couldn't help but smile at the thought of having this man hold her in his arms every night as she slept.  
  
"I don't want to sleep. I want to stay awake and talk about us getting married," Rose revealed. "I'm so excited now that I've made the decision."  
  
"I am glad you are looking forward to our wedding," he returned. "But the ceremony will be nothing but a formality to me. In my heart, you already belong to me and I to you." He leaned over her and kissed her face to confirm his words.  
  
"This desert air just brings out the romantic in you." Rose giggled. "I really think I can grow to like that."  
  
"And being in my bed?" he inquired. "Could you grow to like that as well?"  
  
"Oh, I already love that," she returned.  
  
"Good. And I love having you in my bed."  
  
Rose smiled then asked teasingly, "Hey, isn't this my bed?"  
  
Ali chuckled and the low sound of his laugh reverberated through Rose's body. "I suppose it is."  
  
Rose then asked, "Speaking of whose bed this is.just where will we live once we're married, Ali?"  
  
"Do not worry about that. All is arranged."  
  
"And how about the little detail of me being here in Egypt without a passport or visa? And a marriage license? Don't we have to take care of all of those details as well?" Rose continued to question.  
  
"It has already been arranged," Ali said.  
  
"Arranged?" Rose repeated, turning in Ali's arms to once again face him. "How? And by whom?"  
  
"I have friends who have taken care of everything," he said, reassuringly. "Do not worry so. Tomorrow, we will be married and you will not have to worry about a single detail."  
  
"Tomorrow?" Rose sat up, pulling the sheet with her and turned to look down at Ali. "I know I said I wanted to marry you soon, but tomorrow?"  
  
"Tomorrow," he repeated firmly.  
  
His eyes conveyed his determination the same as they had the night before in front of the Council. Rose thought it best not to argue with him on this point and agreed that they should wed quickly since they had already known each other for a long while. It wasn't as if this was a mere whirlwind romance. They knew everything about one another and there was no reason to delay the ceremony.  
  
"Okay," Rose drawled. "Tomorrow it is."  
  
"No argument?" Ali asked with confusion.  
  
"No argument," Rose assured him. "We know each other as well as any two people can and I want to become your wife. So why wait?"  
  
Ali's expression changed for an instant at her words and she was certain he looked almost guilty. The look came and went quickly and with a simple kiss to her lips, Ali insisted quietly, "Lets get some sleep, darling."  
  
Rose nodded and rolled to her side. Secure in the arms of the man she loved, she drifted off to sleep and again dreamed of wild rides through the desert nights. Only instead of dreaming of cloaked warriors beside her, she dreamed of Ali.  
  
****  
  
His sleep was sound as he laid with Rose in his arms. In fact, Ali's sleep was so sound, it took a hard shake to wake him. As Devraj's hand landed upon his shoulder, Ali's eyes flew open and he stifled a curse.  
  
"Forgive me, Ali," Devraj whispered, a small hint of shame showing upon his face for having intruded upon their chief's afternoon. "But we have finally discovered some information we thought you should be informed of."  
  
Ali nodded and carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb Rose who had been entangled in his arms. He dressed quickly in his jeans and T- shirt and as he was about to leave, he felt something in his pocket. It was the ring he had brought to show Rose for her approval. Having been so caught up in their lovemaking, Ali had forgotten all about it. The ring was a gold band, hand-crafted by one of the elder men in the village who had made it as a gift for their chief and his chosen bride. Engraved around the band were the same symbols that were tattooed on Ali's chest. It was a fitting ring for the wife of a Medjai chief and Ali didn't want to wait until tomorrow to claim her. Gently he slipped the ring upon her finger, touched his lips to the band, and with one last longing look at Rose, he left with Devraj.  
  
"Again, I am sorry to have disturbed you," Devraj apologized as they left the house. "But I was informed that some interesting facts were discovered on this Oscar Mann we've been looking at."  
  
"There is nothing to apologize for, Devraj. If you are to be my right hand, you should learn that there is no such thing as in imposition," Ali returned.  
  
"Your bride may think otherwise," Devraj pointed out.  
  
"My Rose will adapt," Ali said confidently.  
  
"Yasmeen is positive Rose will be quite angry with you when she learns the truth."  
  
Ali stopped in the middle of the stairway they were ascending and looked at Devraj.  
  
"When did Yasmeen tell you this?" he inquired.  
  
"This morning on the ride. She says she already mentioned so to you and that you do not believe her."  
  
Slowly, Ali said, "I believe Rose will be upset, yes. But I also think that she will have a sense of humor about it. She will get over it in time for the wedding."  
  
"Ah, so you plan to tell her soon?" Devraj asked. "Are you going to tell her before or after the celebration?"  
  
"What celebration?"  
  
"The village is buzzing with news of your engagement. They have planned a celebration tonight. I thought you knew."  
  
Ali shook his head. "No, I knew nothing. And just who arranged this?"  
  
"Yasmeen, the Council, your mother," Devraj answered. "In fact." He paused and an uncharacteristic look of uncertainty crossed his face. "I think that I may even have a date for this celebration."  
  
"A date?" Ali again studied his friend's face and asked, "With Yasmeen?"  
  
Devraj shrugged. "I am not sure exactly."  
  
"Not sure?" Ali asked with a chuckle and resumed climbing the steps. "My friend, how can you not be sure?"  
  
"I would appreciate if you not taunt me," Devraj insisted. "After all, unlike you and Yasmeen and most of the others, I did not spend time touring Europe and America. My station was in Cairo at the museum. And as much as I enjoyed the long hours of study and learning about artifacts and ancient history, I did not have the opportunity to meet many women and socialize. And Yasmeen.well, she is more.there is something." Devraj stopped his words and frowned.  
  
Ali halted his steps again and placed a hand on his friend's solid shoulder. "Yes, I know that Yasmeen is perhaps more woman than most men can handle," Ali finished for his friend. "But I am finding that she is changing lately. There is something more demure about her, something sweeter that was never there before. And I believe that was put there by you. You have quiet strength, Dev, and you can certainly handle Yasmeen. That is, if you are seriously interested in her?"  
  
Devraj nodded. "Yes. I believe I am. She is beautiful. And I have learned much about her strength this past week."  
  
"Then I suggest that instead of thinking you have a date, that you should insist you have a date and put that woman in her place."  
  
Devraj chuckled and then asked sarcastically, "You mean, like you have put Rose in her place?"  
  
An embarrassed grimace crossed Ali's face. "Yes, exactly like that," he said upon a self-conscious laugh and the men resumed their walk.  
  
When they reached the building next to the stables that served as a makeshift "communication headquarters", any light tone and laughter disappeared from Ali's countenance. The news the Medjai had uncovered on their lead suspect, Oscar Mann, was sobering and Ali sank into a chair next to the computer his cousin Aria was using with a feeling of dread.  
  
"It didn't take too long to dig up information on Oscar Mann because his family has a very interesting and high profile history," Aria said. She clicked on an icon and brought up a page of a government database.  
  
"His father ran from Nazi Germany in 1945 and was among several high ranking Nazi officials who never went to trial for their war crimes because they disappeared before the western powers could capture them," she continued. "Oscar Mann was raised in Argentina by his father until he turned eighteen. He left Argentina for Germany then, went to college for a few years and built up an international shipping company with his own ingenuity and made a very comfortable life-style for himself. Our government records indicate he's visited here in Egypt several times, especially in the past decade. His last application for a visa was four months ago. He entered Egypt the same time two other German citizens did along with a French historian by the name of Jean Danton."  
  
Ali asked Aria to halt her explanation for a moment as he studied the passport picture of Oscar Mann and ran Jean Danton's name through his head. The Medjai had connections in the Egyptian government that made most databases available to them for research and this particular database that Aria was using had a picture of their number one suspect. Oscar Mann was in his late forties with light blonde, thinning hair and a pockmarked complexion. His eyes too were light, almost a clear blue, and the small smirk displayed upon his mouth brought the image of a serpent to mind. Ali would have been surprised if this wasn't their man, for he had a look to be wary of upon his face and Ali could feel in his gut that this man was up to no good.  
  
As for the name Danton, Ali was certain he'd heard it before, yet he couldn't place a date or time or a face.  
  
"Danton, why does that name sound so familiar?" Ali asked Devraj.  
  
Devraj thought for a moment, then said, "I know. He's been to the museum in Cairo before. In fact." Devraj's voice rose with emotion as he added, "he visited there last year. I was there with Saed and this Frenchman asked about the Staff of the Sun. He said he was a historian writing a book on ancient Egypt and that he wanted to know about some of the ancient myths. We of course told him such a staff did not exist. But just the fact that he knew about it caused us much concern."  
  
"So this Oscar Mann has teamed up with a historian who knows his way around ancient Egypt. Wonderful," Ali said upon a sigh. "And with the bank records showing Mann's company account wired money here to Egypt and that he chartered a helo, it's a pretty sure bet he's our man. But what's his motivation? What is he after?"  
  
"Could be he's interested in rewriting history," Aria guessed.  
  
Ali considered his cousin's statement for a long while. She was a well- educated, intelligent woman who had just returned from working in New York. Her computer and research skills were impeccable and she'd obviously been reading up on this Oscar Mann all day. Ali only hoped her guess was incorrect, for the thought of a man wanting to bring back the most dreaded evils of World War II was something that the world should never have to replay again.  
  
"I hope you are wrong, Aria," Ali said. "I hope he is more interested in just money and power. Let us pray he learned few lessons from his father."  
  
"Yes, let us," Aria agreed. "I will keep searching and let you know if I find anything else." Then the young woman who was barely twenty-four smiled at Ali with conspiracy and asked, "Is it true you are engaged to be married, cousin?"  
  
"It is true," Ali answered.  
  
"Who is she? I heard she was American."  
  
Ali stood and smiled down at his cousin. "She is. You will no doubt meet her very soon."  
  
"If she is American, how did she take the news of your title?" Aria then inquired.  
  
Ali frowned and Devraj spoke up. "He has not told her yet."  
  
It was Aria's turn to frown. "Ali," she chastised, "she will be angry."  
  
"She will adjust," Ali said with confidence that was starting to wane.  
  
"Perhaps after a month of hating you," Aria warned.  
  
Ali glowered as his cousin. She too was an outspoken woman like Rose and was daunted by little, even by the chief of the Medjai.  
  
"She will adjust," Ali insisted one last time as he turned on his heel and headed out of the computer room.  
  
Devraj followed down the hall, past the few offices containing communication equipment, fax machines, the village telephone system, and the locked armory and found Ali in the end office which the chief had always occupied. Their "headquarters" were growing with equipment and technology as the threats to the sacred lands of the desert became more dangerous and more extreme. The days of simply chasing their quarry through the desert with just their swords was long past them now and every piece of modern equipment they possessed was becoming more necessary to fight off interlopers to the ancient sites. Interlopers, however, were not what was plaguing Ali's mind as he entered his office, Rose was.  
  
"Ali, is something the matter?" Devraj asked as he closed the office door behind him.  
  
"It is nothing," Ali lied as he took a few paces across the sparsely furnished office. He knew he should be looking into the information on Oscar Mann, but his mind wouldn't concentrate on it.  
  
Devraj watched Ali for a long while, then asked, "Are you nervous about becoming a husband?"  
  
Ali halted and looked sharply at his friend. "No."  
  
When Devraj continued to stare at him as though he were unconvinced, Ali finally confessed, "It is Rose. What if.what if Aria and Yasmeen are correct and Rose hates me for the secrets I have kept?"  
  
"She kept secrets from you," Devraj pointed out.  
  
"Yes, but she has quickly confessed them. I, however, have been hiding behind a mask. She may think I was toying with her. But it just never seemed the right time. I have tried to convince myself that I never told her the truth because she wasn't ready. Yet I really think I have delayed the truth because." Because he was a coward, he told himself. Keeping that thought quiet, as any good leader should, Ali simply asked, ".What if I lose her over this?"  
  
The emotion showing on Ali's face was difficult to miss. He was torn over the secret he had kept, but it was obvious he had had nothing but good intentions from the start. He by no means was toying with Rose, yet a woman may read such things differently.  
  
"I do not believe you will lose her," Devraj stated. "But do not be surprised if you do not get married tomorrow."  
  
Ali shook his head and frowned his friend's way. "Thank you, Dev, for restoring my confidence," he drawled.  
  
Devraj gave a small shrug then turned and left the office. Ali was left alone to worry over his problems alone.  
  
****  
  
Rose awoke in the late afternoon, almost early evening, and stretched her arms over her head letting a satisfied yawn escape her mouth. She felt well rested and optimistic about the days ahead and it was all thanks to the man next to her. Or at least, the man who was supposed to be lying next to her.  
  
Rose sat up and stared at the empty space on the bed, then shifted her eyes to the floor and saw Ali's clothes were gone. Irritation settled in as she realized he was nowhere to be seen. Waking up in his arms had been something she'd dreamed off all afternoon while she slept and now she was faced with the reality that she was alone.  
  
She allowed a frustrated groan to escape her mouth, then fell back into the pillows and stared at the ceiling fan. What was with Ali lately? He worked until all hours of the night, stole away in the middle of a nap and danced around just about every direct question Rose asked him about his place and position in the village. Then there were the tattoos he'd never told her of, his seemingly nonchalant attitude about having killed Victor's gunmen in California and his insistence they marry as quickly as possible. Things just weren't adding up correctly, and Rose was determined to corner Ali very soon and make him tell her everything.  
  
Yet cornering him was going to be difficult, for the man was gone!  
  
Rose stretched again and was about to get out of bed when she felt something on her hand. Looking at her left hand, she found a gold ring on her finger. Upon closer inspection, she saw intricately carved designs on the gold band that greatly resembled the one's she glimpsed upon Ali's chest. She smiled as she realized Ali had given her the ring and decided she wouldn't berate him as badly as she'd planned.  
  
There was a shuffling in the kitchen and the sound of dishes clanking together and Rose immediately jumped out of bed, hoping it was Ali creating the noise. After dressing quickly in her jeans and a T-shirt, she found Iman putting dishes away, but no Ali.  
  
"Good evening, Rose," Iman said when Rose entered the kitchen. The woman returned to her work as Rose repeated the greeting.  
  
"Have you seen Ali around?" Rose inquired.  
  
"No. I have not seen him all day," Iman said.  
  
Rose frowned. "Does he do this often? Disappear on a whim? Because in California, he was quite predictable. He was always easy to track down. Since we've been here, I barely see him anymore."  
  
Iman smiled knowingly and gave a small shrug. "His life is different here. You must realize that."  
  
"I'm realizing it," Rose said. "I'm just not understanding it."  
  
"All in time, my child," Iman told her.  
  
Rose's frown deepened. "I don't feel like I have any time," she argued. "Ali asked me to marry him last night. I told him I would and he insists we'll be married tomorrow. The trouble is, he's not here now to talk about it. I want to know what is going on with him before I say 'I do'."  
  
Iman sighed and touched Rose's face. "I am thrilled at the prospects of you and Ali getting married. I know things seem rushed and that my son may seem like a different man to you here than he was in California. But do not judge him too harshly. Ali has great responsibilities now. Responsibilities beyond your comprehension. And I am sure he will explain everything to you tonight. But first, you need to get ready for the celebration."  
  
"What celebration?" Rose asked warily.  
  
"The entire village is celebrating your engagement," Iman explained with a huge smile of joy. "It will be a wonderful event." Before Rose could ask anything further, Iman was pushing her toward the bathroom. "Now, shower and fix your hair. I have much to do before tonight and you must be ready soon."  
  
With no choice but to obey as Iman closed the bathroom door behind Rose, she started the shower and hoped Iman's words rang true about Ali explaining his duties to her very soon. 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13  
  
Ali returned to his mother's house as quickly as he could. He wanted to be there when Rose awoke, knowing she'd be irritated by his desertion, but having had little choice in the matter. As chief, he had to be kept up-to- date on all the happenings and discoveries of events involving the Fortress of Aten. The new information that had been found on Oscar Mann was such news he had to know and leaving Rose to hear about the latest discoveries was something that had been unavoidable.  
  
As he entered the dwelling, he found his mother on her way out. Before she left, however, she had a few choice words to share with her son.  
  
"Ali, if you don't tell that poor girl about the Medjai tonight, I will tell her myself," Iman warned.  
  
Ali nodded. "Yes, mother. I will tell her."  
  
"It is not fair to have her marry you and not know what she is entering into. Have you even considered that she may not want to be the wife of a desert chief?"  
  
"I should have considered that," Ali answered, "but I did not. I will work it out."  
  
Iman nodded. "I hope you do. Rose has asked me so many questions about you and our way of life that I feel I am lying each time I speak to her. Tell her, Ali, and soon."  
  
"She will know who and what I am tonight," Ali assured her, knowing that he could no longer keep the news from Rose.  
  
"Good," Iman said with a warm smile for her son. "Shall I tell Rose you are here before I leave? She is in the shower."  
  
Ali shook his head and grinned deviously at his mother. "I will tell her myself," he insisted.  
  
When his mother frowned at him with a chastising scowl, for her ways were much more traditional, Ali chuckled and shooed her out the door.  
  
"She will be my wife tomorrow, mother," he called after her and watched as she threw up her hands in defeat and exited out the door.  
  
He moved across the room to the bathroom door and decided it best to knock first. Rose had suffered enough surprises lately and still had more to come. He didn't need to torment her further by sneaking up on her now. Instead, he knocked loud enough on the door to be heard over the running water and said, "Rose. It's me."  
  
"Go away," came her reply, her tone filled with only mild anger. "I'm angry with you, Ali Bay."  
  
"As you should be," Ali agreed. "I stole away while you were asleep. It was a dastardly thing to do."  
  
He heard Rose laugh at his words and ask, "Who talks that way any more?"  
  
"Only your future husband who is completely insane for leaving his beautiful fiancé alone in bed this evening when he should have been there right next to her until she awoke," Ali returned.  
  
"In that case," Rose said, "you can come in. I forgive you."  
  
Ali's hand was on the doorknob when a female voice halted his motion.  
  
"Not so fast, Ali," Yasmeen insisted from behind. "I need Rose. You be on your way."  
  
Ali released the doorknob and glowered at Yasmeen. The woman barely acknowledged the reprimand and merely pushed him away from the door with little ceremony.  
  
"She needs to get ready for tonight's party. I brought her clothes. I will take care of her and bring her to you when she is ready," Yasmeen explained as she stood guard in front of the bathroom door, making it impossible for Ali to enter.  
  
Yasmeen was already dressed in a black shirt and skirt that was actually conservative yet looked anything but that upon her voluptuous body. Her long black hair hung to the middle of her back in waves and Ali knew Devraj would be pleased with her beauty tonight.  
  
Towering over her and hoping to strike some fear in her for her untimely interruption, Ali said lowly, "I hear you have a date tonight. I wonder if your Dev knows how devious your ways are, Yasmeen."  
  
"Quit pouting because I am keeping you from your betrothed. Your threats will not sway me, Ali. Now go," she said, literally placing her hands upon his chest and shoving him back.  
  
He frowned, knowing it was an unfair fight when she had her mind set, yet happy that Rose and she were getting on much better, and reluctantly left. He would postpone telling Rose about the Medjai until later. He only hoped it wasn't too late when he finally had the chance. ****  
  
Rose was disappointed to hear that Yasmeen had shooed Ali away. She had much she wanted to ask him and a thank you to dole out for the ring. Yet she was positive that after the village festivities tonight, she'd have Ali all to herself to thank him as much as she wanted.  
  
Yasmeen took an extra amount of time getting Rose ready for the celebration. She dried and curled the ends of Rose's chin-length hair, then brushed it until it shined. Lightly, she applied a hint of make-up to her eyes, cheeks and lips and then dabbed on the most intriguing smelling perfume Rose had ever sampled. As for the clothes Yasmeen had brought, they were more Western in influence than Middle Eastern conservative, yet Rose loved the color of the red patterned skirt, and the white cotton knit top with the v-neck and three-quarter length sleeves fit her perfectly.  
  
"Yasmeen, there is nothing conservative about this outfit. I will be shunned by your Council," Rose insisted as she looked at herself in the mirror. The top showed off her curves and the skirt was long, to mid-calf, but was obviously patterned after the more modern European and American styles and clung seductively to her hips.  
  
"I know it's not exactly conservative, but you have already been accepted by the Council. You can dress more American tonight. In fact, I bought this outfit in New York this summer when I was visiting a friend. It looks much better on you than it does on me," Yasmeen insisted.  
  
Rose smiled back at Yasmeen in the mirror, then dropped her eyes to the Medjai necklace she still wore upon her neck. Reaching back, Rose began to unclasp the leather strand that held the charm. After all, she had no business wearing the charm. She doubted she'd see too much more of the Medjai chief now that she was marrying Ali and it didn't feel right to be wearing the necklace another man had given her. Yasmeen, however, immediately halted her efforts and gently pushed her hands away.  
  
"You mustn't take this off, Rose," Yasmeen warned, fixing the necklace and straitening it upon her neck. "The Medjai chief will take it as a great insult."  
  
"Like I didn't insult the man enough when he had me in his custody," Rose drawled. "It's not right for me to wear this now."  
  
"It is right," she said back. "And when you insulted the man in private, it was of little consequence to him. But if you were to take this off, it would be a public insult and that the Medjai chief will not and cannot stand for."  
  
Frowning at her friend, Rose argued, "But I'm marrying Ali. Its wrong for me to wear this."  
  
"Its right for you to wear it," Yasmeen insisted. "And Ali should know this better than anyone else."  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"Nothing," Yasmeen said upon a sigh. Then her eyes landed on the golden ring Rose wore and she lifted Rose's hand to study it. "What did Ali tell you when he gave this to you?"  
  
"I was asleep. I woke up with it on. I haven't talked to him since.well, since the two sentences we shared through the bathroom door before you showed up."  
  
Yasmeen sighed again, dropped Rose's hand and moved away. "I am sorry I interrupted. I am sure Ali was planning on telling you about.I mean, I'll bet he would have explained about that ring and what the symbols on it represent."  
  
Rose studied Yasmeen's face with a furrowed brow. "What do you mean, Yasmeen? What do the symbols on this ring stand for? And they match the symbols on Ali's chest, don't they?"  
  
"So you've seen the tattoos he has."  
  
"Yes, he conveniently kept those from me for two years," Rose said, shaking her head. "The man certainly has an incorrigible side to him, I'm finding."  
  
"You might find that he has more than an incorrigible side to him," Yasmeen quipped.  
  
When Rose again looked at Yasmeen with confusion, the woman stepped forward, placed a firm hand upon Rose's shoulder and said, "Rose, please do not fear anything about Ali. He is a good man. And I am afraid he has had much on his mind lately. Surely you have seen that too."  
  
Slowly, Rose nodded. Yes, something had been different about Ali lately.  
  
Touching the ring on Rose's hand, Yasmeen continued, "Now that you wear this, you are important to the people in this village. You are one of us." Yasmeen's hand moved to touch the Medjai charm on her neck. "And because you wear this, you are important to the Medjai. You will forever be protected in this desert land and have nothing to fear about your future. Remember my words, Rose, and listen to your heart before you decide anything."  
  
Rose would have insisted Yasmeen explain further what she meant by her cryptic words, yet the woman immediately looped her arm through Rose's and pulled her out of the house. When Rose inquired if they would be stopping to get Ali along the way, Yasmeen explained there was no time. In the near distance, Rose could hear the voices of celebration echoing through the new night and there was no time for detours or explanations. ****  
  
Yasmeen and Rose never showed at his dwelling and Ali paced furiously through the living area of the small house he was sharing with Devraj. His second in command was staring at him strangely, and Ali finally explained his agitation.  
  
"We need to be at the festivities soon, Dev," Ali said. "But I cannot go because I have not yet explained my role to Rose."  
  
"I thought you went to talk to her when you left the headquarters building earlier this evening?" Dev inquired.  
  
"I planned on telling her, yes. But Yasmeen kicked me out of the house and said she'd bring Rose by later. And as you can see, they are not here," Ali explained.  
  
Devraj shrugged. "I do not know what to tell you, Ali. We do need to arrive at the celebration soon. And you know it is customary for us to wear our."  
  
Cutting Devraj off, Ali said roughly, "I know."  
  
"And the other warriors will be expecting you there any moment now. In fact, I am surprised they have not sent someone to find you yet," Devraj added.  
  
"They will, I am sure. That leaves me with little option." Taking a deep breath, Ali decided, "I suppose I forgo telling Rose about my position and merely show her. After all, it was my own lack of courage that has led me into this dilemma. I am only to blame if she is angry with me in public. In fact, I would deserve it."  
  
With that decision made and the arrival of a warrior saying the Council was waiting, Ali had little choice but to dress in his attire of black combat boots, black military cargo-pants, long-sleeved black shirt, dark over- robe, turban, veil and scimitars. As he looked in the mirror at his warrior reflection, the briefest glimpse of fear traversed his face. The expression, however, quickly vanished as Ali conjured up his warrior armor and turned to leave with his men. ****  
  
They appeared from out of nowhere. One moment, Rose was standing with a group of women answering their questions about herself, when suddenly the black-clad warriors made their presence known. Cheers rang up from the crowd when the Medjai arrived and Rose halted her words as she stared in both awe and fear at the group.  
  
A bon-fire burned in the night and Rose met the eyes of the Medjai chief over the rise and fall of the dancing flames. Though his face was covered as always, Rose still knew it was him by the bold stance and piercing stare. Just a look from his dark eyes caused fear to traverse her spine as she imagined him interrupting the celebration to try and steal her away again. After all, he had professed just that morning that he loved her. Of course, to Rose, it was a silly declaration for no one could fall in love in a matter of days. Yet this man believed he harbored some feelings for her and though he had told her he accepted her decision to be with Ali, she wondered if he was now changing his mind.  
  
"Rose, what is wrong?" Iman who was standing nearby inquired.  
  
"The Medjai.wh.what are they doing here?" Rose asked, stammering on her words.  
  
"You have nothing to fear from the Medjai," Iman said soothingly, touching Rose's arm.  
  
"I'm afraid I just might," Rose argued.  
  
Rose again glanced at the man across the fire. People were pleased to see the Medjai and the warriors were now blending in with the villagers as though they were members of this community themselves. The Medjai chief, however, spoke to no one and as he stood boldly on the other side of the fire, his eyes sizing up his prey, Rose had a horrible sinking feeling that this celebration would turn out to be anything but a celebration.  
  
Rose continued, "You see, their chief thinks my picture is on this cave wall that tells his tribe's history and future. He insists I am to be his wife."  
  
The chief slowly began to circle the fire, his eyes never leaving Rose. Panic began to overtake her senses, and she tried to tell herself that the Medjai chief was a man of his word and would leave her be. Iman's words, however, overrode any calm Rose had managed to talk herself into.  
  
"You are, Rose," Iman said. "You are destined to be his wife."  
  
Had she fallen asleep and was merely dreaming a nightmare, or had a really bad episode of the "Twilight Zone" just begun? For if Rose had heard Iman correctly, the woman was telling her that the Medjai warrior's crazy predictions were going to come true.  
  
That, however, was impossible, for Rose was to marry Ali, not the warrior.  
  
"What are you saying, Iman? I'm marrying Ali, your son, tomorrow," Rose insisted.  
  
Iman smiled and nodded her head. "Yes, you are."  
  
It took a long moment for Iman's words to sink in and when they finally registered in her brain, Rose spun around and quickly bolted out of the village square and down a small cobblestone alley-way. She didn't get far, before a strong arm caught her around the waist and halted her escape.  
  
Flashbacks to earlier in the week when the Medjai chief had forcibly stopped her escapes entered her mind and she felt that familiar strength he possessed-that Ali possessed--hold her from her flight and all she could do was continue to tell herself this was all a bad dream. For if the man she loved was truly the Medjai chief and had lied about it for so long, she could trust nothing about the world around her.  
  
"Don't touch me!" Rose spat out, ready to resort to all the tactics she'd used in the desert to escape him, but hoping he'd release her voluntarily.  
  
"Do not run," Ali warned lowly against her ear. "I will release you only upon that condition."  
  
Her heart hammering in her chest, her mind reeling out of control, Rose somehow found the composure to nod and then support her own weight upon trembling legs as she was released.  
  
She turned to stare at the man clad in black, the man she loved. His face was still covered and now that she knew it was Ali, she wondered how she could have been so blind to his identity while he'd been in this disguise. His mannerisms, his voice.they were all so distinctive. Yet the thought of Ali as a warrior chief had never entered her mind. Ali was a simple, conservative man whom she'd been friends with for two years. How did someone hide something as huge as the fact that they were a desert warrior from their best friend for so long? It just wasn't possible!  
  
But Ali had done just that. He'd never told her he was a warrior, a protector of the desert. And until this very moment, she never would have guessed it herself.  
  
Slowly, Ali moved his hand to his veil and tugged it down. Images of the bold attacks and fights he'd staged against Victor and those men in the cave flooded her mind and she was stunned to realize such a heroic side existed to Ali.  
  
"Rose," Ali began slowly, "let me explain."  
  
"Oh, you need to explain all right! You need to do more than explain!" she nearly shouted back at him, her shock being replaced by anger.  
  
He took a step forward and she took a step back. Ali frowned at her retreat and held up a hand to reach for her instead. She dodged his effort, determined to allow him no contact, and she saw the irritation flood his face.  
  
"Don't think you can just spring something like this on me and then assume I'll cave like a weakling with some affection," Rose warned, her voice conveying her anger as much as her body language was. "I am beyond angry, Ali. How could you have not told me this? How could you have strung me along and played this game with me? How could you have held me hostage for nearly two days and never confessed it was you hiding behind that veil?"  
  
Her questions were legitimate and if Ali were in her shoes, he'd be asking the same things. Yet his shame over his actions prompted him to act more defensive than apologetic as he returned, "And how could you have professed to being such good friends with me and never told me about your father or Victor? I killed to save you from your past, I combed the desert for you brother. I risked the lives of my warriors for you and the secrets you had kept from me. So don't stand there and question my actions, Rose."  
  
"I confessed my secrets to you, Ali, as soon as I got here," Rose answered. "But you, you continued to play some sick game with me. And to think, I was going to marry you!"  
  
"You are still going to marry me," Ali insisted.  
  
"You shot at me in that cave. Do you actually think I would marry you now? In fact, I want to leave. I don't want to have anything to do with this place. I'll take my chances back in America."  
  
Stepping forward and clutching the charm around her neck, Ali said lowly, "You will go nowhere. You are mine, Rose. You agreed to that when you accepted this charm. And you have already pledged yourself to this marriage. That ring on your finger is proof."  
  
Suddenly, Rose feared Ali. She had never feared him before, except of course when he was the warrior. But she had never feared anything about him when he was himself. Now that she had discovered all that he was, she was afraid of him. It sent chills down her spine to think of how different this warrior side of him was. He was no longer the man she'd known in California, no longer the man she'd fallen in love with. He was a man she feared and because of that, she could no longer be with him.  
  
"I belong to no one, Ali," Rose returned. "Least of all, to you."  
  
Reaching back she unclasped the necklace and left it dangling in Ali's fingers. She turned and walked away, surprised that Ali allowed her to leave, but thankful he put up no fight. 


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14  
  
His fingers balled into tight fist around the gold charm in his hand. Ali cursed through gritted teeth and fought back the urge to physically haul Rose back to him. He knew enough about her will, however, to predict exactly what would happen if he did that. She would put up a mental and physical fight that would never cease and if he wanted to salvage his relationship with her, he would have to give her space for a moment. That realization, though, did not help his temper and it flared to degrees he'd never before experienced.  
  
Unfortunately, Yasmeen and Devraj happened upon him at that moment, and his anger locked on to a new target.  
  
"Ali, what happened?" Yasmeen began to ask. "Where's Rose?"  
  
Turning quickly, he glared down at the woman and snapped, "She has left, refused to speak to me and it is all because of you!"  
  
"Me?" Yasmeen questioned, placing a hand upon her chest and staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.  
  
"Yes, you," he spat out. "If you had brought Rose to me like I had told you to do, I could have explained everything to her in private instead of having to present myself to her this way!"  
  
Her eyes quickly turning from disbelieving to offensive, Yasmeen pulled the hand from her chest and pointed a finger at Ali.  
  
"And if you had told Rose about the Medjai before tonight instead of procrastinating like a coward, this fiasco would not have happened!" she returned.  
  
Ali was about to retort again, his face shadowed with rage, when Devraj stepped between the two and ordered in a calm, commanding voice, "Enough! Both of you!"  
  
The two backed down and Devraj continued, "Yasmeen, do not taunt Ali. And Ali, you know very well that you should have told Rose sooner. There is no use in arguing about it now. We must fix this."  
  
"Yes, I will fix it," Ali insisted, beginning to move off in the direction of his mother's house, certain that is where Rose went. "I will make her understand."  
  
"You can't make Rose understand anything, Ali," Yasmeen called after him. When he didn't stop at her words, she ran after him. Devraj was close behind.  
  
Tugging on the sleeve of his robe, Yasmeen tried to halt Ali. He pushed her hands away as though she was a mere fly upon his garment.  
  
"Ali, listen to me," she pleaded. "If you find Rose now and try to make her do anything, she will never forgive you. You cannot make a woman understand anything she does not want to understand--certainly not a woman as strong-willed as Rose."  
  
"I am the Medjai chief," he said, "she will have to understand."  
  
"And that means what to Rose?" Yasmeen asked him, finally saying something that caused him to halt his steps and listen just outside the door to his mother's home. "I'll tell you what it means to her.it means nothing! She is American, she has no use for our traditions and way of life. You need to beg and plead with her. You need to tell her you are sorry. If you go in there and try to command her like one of your warriors, she will hate you forever."  
  
"She will not," Ali insisted, though his resolve was beginning to crumble along with the hot temper that had been driving him on moments before.  
  
"She will. And if she leaves here, you will be more or less forced to marry me," Yasmeen explained, her voice wavering in her declaration. "And I, for one, do not want that." Her eyes left Ali and focused on the quiet man at her side. Devraj smiled down at her with a rare moment of emotion and Ali shook his head and sighed.  
  
"All right, woman," he announced. "Tell me what I should do."  
  
"Let me talk to her first," Yasmeen said. "I will explain everything to her. She will listen to another woman before she will listen to you."  
  
Hating the fact that he had to hand over the control to Yasmeen, but knowing that he had little options left, Ali nodded and watched as Yasmeen quickly bolted into the house.  
  
Ali turned to Devraj then and said, "This had better work."  
  
"Yes, it had better," Devraj returned with that quite command he could sometimes display when the need arose. "Because you are not going to marry my Yasmeen."  
  
Ali slapped a hand to Devraj's shoulder, feeling back in control of his emotions. "You're right, I'm not," he agreed. "I'm going to marry my Rose- whatever it takes."  
  
****  
  
Rose was not going to cry. She had cried enough this past week and crying now would not change the fact that the man she loved had lied to her about something as profound as him being chief of a historic desert tribe.  
  
What made her feel worse than the fact that he had lied to her, was the realization that she had been duped. Ali had been able to fool her so easily. Hadn't she learned her lesson after Victor? He'd been a man who had appeared like someone else for so long, until she had agreed to marry him, then he'd transformed into the true monster he was. And Ali, he'd hidden his identity from her with a simple disguise. A black robe and a veil and Rose had truly thought he was someone else.  
  
She shook her head, disgusted with herself and pulled off the skirt Yasmeen had given her and yanked on her denim jeans. As long as she was miserable, she may as well be comfortable and she'd already decided that returning to the party was not going to happen. Why celebrate a marriage that was never going to take place?  
  
Yasmeen entered the room not long after Rose had changed. There was an apologetic look upon her face, and Rose realized if Ali's face had mirrored half of that expression, she wouldn't be so incredibly angry right now. But he hadn't been apologetic. He'd been arrogant and demanding just like he'd acted in that cave he'd kept her in. Something inside him changed when he donned his black garb and strapped on his swords, and Rose wasn't sure she liked that side of him.  
  
"Rose.I'm sorry you had to find out like this," Yasmeen began.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me, Yasmeen?" Rose asked, her voice curt and clipped when she spoke.  
  
"I could not tell you because Ali did not wish it."  
  
"And you do everything Ali tells you to do?" Rose inquried.  
  
Yasmeen nodded her head. "Yes. He is our chief. To defy him would mean great dishonor."  
  
Rose couldn't help but conjure up the image of Ali in his business attire, working behind a computer and she almost giggled. Ali as a chief? It was still so strange. Then she sobered as she thought about another man, her father, who's people obeyed him completely and she shuddered at the thought of Ali being anything like her father.  
  
"And what type of dishonor would this bring upon you?" Rose inquired. "Does the Medjai kill those who defy them?"  
  
"That is a loaded question, Rose. The Medjai kill when they must, but they do not kill their own. In the past, there have been tribesmen exiled for defiance. But rarely is there defiance because we respect the power of our chiefs and of our Council. It is our way of life and has been since the time of the pharaohs."  
  
"I don't understand all this talk of history," Rose snapped as she sat on the bed and pulled on white socks and her tennis shoes.  
  
"Of course you do not. Few in this world do. But just know that our tribe is history bound. We believe in the past.it guides us. Traditions are important to us. Our chief is part of that tradition and therefore we respect him," Yasmeen explained.  
  
Yasmeen's words were reminiscent of what Ali had told her when they'd been in the cave together. He'd tried to explain a little of the history that drove his people and at the time, Rose had just thought them ramblings of an unstable man. Now to hear Yasmeen repeat those statements made Rose realize just how serious the Medjai were in their duty to the desert.  
  
"So Ali leads you all into battle and you follow? You obey?"  
  
Yasmeen nodded. "If we did not, the world could be in danger."  
  
Rose sighed. "I've heard that before, but I just can't believe it."  
  
"Perhaps that is why you are angry with Ali now," Yasmeen postulated. "You are angry because you do not believe in what we do."  
  
"How can anyone believe in what you do? It makes no sense? And how on earth can a small village financially support itself by having a band of roving warriors keep watch over the desert?" Rose threw her hands up and paced across the small room.  
  
Yasmeen allowed a long, weary sigh to escape her mouth and she sat in the wooden chair that lined the far wall.  
  
"I will explain as much as I can in the hope that you will begin to understand, Rose," Yasmeen said. "I will tell you about our past and when I am done, perhaps you will understand Ali that much better."  
  
For the next twenty minutes, Yasmeen told Rose about the duty of the Medjai and how they had sworn thousands of years ago to protect the ancient sites and secrets of Egypt. That duty had been passed down, generation after generation and the Medjai had often struggled against great odds to keep their tribe and culture in tact, as well as, all the secrets of Egypt safe. It was the Bay family, Yasmeen explained, that emerged as the strongest of the Medjai in a dark period in history when the tribe had almost disbanded and pulled the Medjai back together. Since then, Ali's family had ruled the tribe along with the Council of elders and there had been much peace in the tribe for centuries. It was also Ali's grandfather, Ardeth Bay, who had catapulted the Medjai into the modern era.  
  
"Before Ardeth's rule," Yasmeen said, "the Medjai lived a very nomadic existence, wandering the desert from ancient site to ancient site. Ardeth, however, realized that in order to keep the tribe together in this changing world and in order for the Medjai to be effective, they would have to abandon some of their traditional ways in order to adapt. So they built this village, stopped the tradition of tattooing the faces of their warriors for better secrecy and started sending the next generation out into the world to gain knowledge and build precious contacts. We have hundreds of people who work at various jobs in Cairo and Alexandria. We have tribesmen in Europe and some even in America. Not all of us are warriors in the traditional sense. Some do not even train in the traditions of fighting and weaponry. Many learn technology and assist us with our computer network. Others, learn medicine to help should our warriors suffer attacks. We have people in banks that watch for unusual money flow to Egypt. The museum in Cairo is under our command and we are warned should anyone seek information there that might involve ancient sites. The university is also staffed with some Medjai. They have access to research satellites that help us track movements of groups across the Sahara. We have."  
  
Rose interrupted Yasmeen's speech to say, "It sounds as if Ali's grandfather prepared your tribe for just about everything. But really, are the Medjai even necessary? Doesn't the government of Egypt keep track of the ancient sites and take care of terrorist activities?"  
  
"You would think they would, but they are not equipped to handle the threats we are equipped to handle," Yasmeen answered.  
  
"Oh, so their military isn't as capable as a band of warriors on horseback?" Rose quipped.  
  
"The government does not know of all the secret sites this desert contains. For instance, they know nothing about the Fortress of Aten, but as you know from what happened in the Cave of Prophecies, there are men who would kill for it."  
  
Rose replayed the events that transpired there in her mind. Ali had fought so gallantly and she had decided to protect him instead of going with the European man and it had been the right decision. But would marrying Ali now be the right decision too? Could she understand this strange, history bound life he lived, and could she adapt to it? There was much she still didn't believe, and much she had to digest before she could make a decision.  
  
"Yes, there are," Rose finally drawled. "And there has been entirely too much killing lately."  
  
"There has been. But there will be more. If what we think has happened has indeed happened, then you could be in great danger," Yasmeen announced.  
  
Rose narrowed her eyes on Yasmeen. "Just what has happened?"  
  
"The group seeking the Fortress of Aten has apparently teamed up with your Victor."  
  
"He's not my Victor," Rose snapped. "And I already know about that. The Medjai.I mean, Ali told me this morning. But how could that put me in danger and just what would Victor be doing with this group searching for the fortress?"  
  
"I do not know. But I am sure Ali would like to ask you," Yasmeen said. "In fact, Ali is just outside. Why don't you talk to him?"  
  
"No," Rose refused. "I won't." She couldn't finish her words before Yasmeen yanked the door open and began calling for Ali.  
  
Rose could see two men standing outside the open front door to the house. One was Ali, the other his friend, Devraj. They began striding their way, when Rose yanked on Yasmeen's arm and said, "No, Yasmeen. Not now."  
  
"Yes, now," Yasmeen insisted, grasping Rose by the shoulders and practically shaking her as she spoke with much force. "You do not understand. If you deny Ali out of anger and refuse to marry him tomorrow, I will be forced by my father to marry Ali. Do you want that? I do not. Ali does not. And Dev certainly does not. All of our fates lie with you, Rose."  
  
The men were at the bedroom door and Yasmeen released Rose and stepped aside. Rose retreated to the far side of the room, grabbing her navy blue Nike sweatshirt and hugging it to her as she went.  
  
"Rose," Ali began, "are you willing to listen to me?"  
  
Though his voice was calm and soft, a far cry from his tone earlier, Rose still snapped back, "Do I have a choice? You all have me barricaded in here like an animal! Go ahead, say what you're going to say."  
  
"It would be a waste of time if you are not open to listening," Ali returned, his tone regaining its force from earlier.  
  
"Ali," Yasmeen chastised under her breath.  
  
He gritted his teeth then asked, "May we have some privacy?"  
  
Slowly Devraj and Yasmeen left the room, and Ali closed the door behind them. Rose refused to near him and her eyes regarded him with suspicion and anger. It was going to take some true and thoughtful words to regain her trust and Ali was uncertain if he possessed the poise to say what had to be said on this night.  
  
He paced for a few moments, all the while watching Rose as she watched him. Her mouth was set in a solid frown and her arms remained crossed over her chest. Ali's mind worked and worked, trying to find the right words to begin with, but failing him miserably.  
  
"So? Say something," Rose demanded.  
  
Ali was pacing like an angry tiger, and Rose watched him carefully, studying the look of him in his warrior garb. How different he looked. How dangerous he seemed! She again shook her head in disbelief as she realized just what exactly Ali was.  
  
"Say what?" he returned. "You tell me what to say. You tell me what will make you forgive me."  
  
"I'm not sure forgive is the proper term," Rose replied. "Perhaps trust is what you need to be working toward here."  
  
Ali's paces stopped and he stared at her with his dark, direct eyes.  
  
"Yes, trust is important," he agreed.  
  
"I'm glad you think that, because its obvious you never trusted me enough to tell me about yourself. And after all this, I'm not sure I could ever trust you."  
  
Ali felt his world shattering with her revelation. Her tone was cool and distant, just like her body language. She would never forgive him or trust him again. It was so obvious to him and he had no idea how to remedy it. The only thing he could think to do was respond with anger. But anger, he knew, would send Rose into a run like it had earlier when she'd first discovered his identity. He had to be savvy and cool, otherwise he would lose her forever.  
  
"I never told you about the Medjai, Rose," he began slowly, "because it would have sounded ridiculous to you. Imagine if I had explained to you in California that I was to inherit the throne in a tribe of ancient warriors what you would have thought of me. Just imagine!"  
  
Humbly, Rose answered, "I would have thought you were either joking or insane."  
  
"Exactly," Ali declared.  
  
"Then why not tell me once we got to Egypt? Instead, you hid your identity behind a veil and lied," Rose countered.  
  
"At first, I did so to find out why Victor and those men were after you. I was caught off guard by Victor's appearance and had no idea about your family history. And the fact that he had teamed up with Jeffreys had me wondering if your problems and my problems were somehow related. I hid my identity to discover about your past."  
  
"All right, I'll give you that. But what about in the cave, Ali? You had so many opportunities to tell me. Instead, you taunted me and held me captive. And when I tried to escape.you actually shot at me." Rose felt her bottom lip tremble with her words. Thinking that Ali had gone to such extremes to hide himself from her saddened her to the core. If she didn't know him as well as she thought, then she didn't know anything about the world. All her assumptions about life and people were wrong, for she had misread Ali for two years.  
  
Quickly and expertly, Ali drew one of his swords. The sound of metal scrapping against metal as the blade left the sheath echoed in the small room and Rose immediately jumped back, hitting the wall behind her.  
  
"Do you realize what one of these blades would have done to me if you had used it on me? It was the only way to safely disarm you. I never would have harmed you, my darling. Never." Ali's words were spoken with much determination and Rose almost believed him.  
  
"Still, part of me fears you, Ali," Rose admitted.  
  
His sword was returned to its sheath and he strode across the room swiftly, stopping in front of her.  
  
"If you had feared me so when you were with me in the Cave of Prophecies, why then did you kiss me?" he inquired in a deep whisper.  
  
Shaking from his nearness and instinctively wanting to fall into his arms and travel back to the time before tonight's revelations, Rose feigned a shrug of indifference and said, "Maybe I was just playing you."  
  
"Maybe," Ali said, sounding unconvinced.  
  
"Or perhaps I was attracted because all along it truly was you. Perhaps my subconscious recognized you."  
  
"Could be," he commented and reached out, toying with the ends of her hair.  
  
Rose was frustrated that he was trying to diffuse her very correct and honest anger with his charm and closeness. She had a right to be angry with him! She had a right to hate him if she so chose! He had no right to attempt to win her back so easily.  
  
With new determination, Rose placed her hands on his chest and shoved him back a few feet, retorting, "But what you forgot, Ali, was that I chose you to marry and not the Medjai. I may have kissed the 'warrior' you in that damned cave, but we had nearly been killed. I wasn't thinking clearly. And when I was able to reassess everything, what I realized was I loved you- the regular man. I didn't love some warrior chief. I loved you!"  
  
"Loved?" Ali asked, hurt by her newfound anger and actions. "You say it in the past tense."  
  
"Yeah, I do. Because right now, I don't know how I feel about you anymore," she admitted. And when she said those words, Ali's face filled with pain and regret. His expression certainly mirrored that on her own face, for she felt the same emotions.  
  
"You saw the picture on that wall, Rose," Ali answered after a moment of hurtful contemplation. "You are to be my wife."  
  
"And that's the only reason you want to marry me, isn't it? Because my picture is on some ancient wall, you think we should be together. Well, sorry, Ali, I don't believe in fairy tales and I don't marry men who want me only for convenience. Victor wanted to marry me because it would secure his place in my father's business and you want to marry me because it secures your destiny. Sorry, it's not going to happen."  
  
Ali felt the floor tilt beneath him while Rose's words bounced around in his brain, confirming to him that he had lost her. If she truly felt the way her words had just implied, then she would never forgive him and she would never trust him.  
  
Taking a deep breath and trying to find some way to convince Rose that he loved her and would never marry her for simple convenience as she proposed, he stepped next to the bed and removed his swords. Gently, he laid them on the bed, then stripped off his turban and over-robe. Next, he threw his handgun on the bed, then his knife, then his hand-held radio.  
  
Standing before her, all his weaponry gone, Ali said, "I loved you before I ever realized it was you depicted in the Cave of Prophecies. I sometimes believe I loved you the moment I saw you. I have been your friend, your rescuer and as of today, your lover. I was hoping to add husband to that list. And I do not want to marry you because of some picture. I want to marry you for who you are. I stand before you as a man.not a warrior.telling you I am sorry. It was my own cowardice that brought us to this impasse. I am solely at fault and if you leave me, I will only have myself to blame."  
  
Rose's resolve to remain angry began to break. Ali's words, his expression, his gestures, all had the appearance of truth and regret. And as he stood next to the bed they had made such passionate love in earlier that day, how could Rose refuse him? She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to rid her mind of all images and her heart of all feelings before they overwhelmed her. But it was no use. Everything began to collapse around her and she felt claustrophobic in the small room. She had to leave and be alone to think before she could forgive Ali.  
  
Shaking her head, Rose muttered, "No, Ali, it can't all be fixed that easily," and then she dashed out of the room before Ali could react.  
  
****  
  
"Where is Rose going?" Yasmeen asked, standing in the doorway of the room that now held only Ali.  
  
"I do not know," Ali answered, his voice weak, his emotions raw.  
  
"What did you say to her, Ali?" Yasmeen then accused.  
  
Normally, Ali would have met Yasmeen's words with a sharp reprimand, but now, he was too drained from the altercation with Rose to say anything other than, "I said nothing harsh."  
  
"Then why did she run out of the house?" Yasmeen inquired, looking at Ali now with concerned eyes.  
  
Ali sat on the bed, his golden charm clutched in his hand, and answered, "I suppose she needed some air. She does not trust me any longer, Yasmeen. All those times you warned me about how Rose would react.you were correct. She will hate me forever."  
  
Trying to find some humor to lighten the heavy mood that was still hanging in the room, Yasmeen gave a small smile and said, "I told you she'd hate you for a month, not forever, Ali. You will win her back. I know you will."  
  
"I am no longer as certain," he answered. He glanced down at the charm Rose had returned to him. He'd squeezed it so tightly in his hand the symbols were imprinted on his palm.  
  
"Well, I do know that if you sit there all night pouting, you won't win anyone back. Get out there and find Rose," Yasmeen demanded.  
  
Ali looked at her. Yasmeen's brown eyes were urging him on.  
  
"Dare I try further tonight?" he inquired of her.  
  
"Yes. Try, Ali. Beg if you have to. Get Rose back," she demanded.  
  
Slowly, Ali stood, clasped the necklace around his neck and exited the room, leaving his equipment behind.  
  
"I will try. I will beg. I will do whatever it takes.even if it kills me," he said as he passed by Yasmeen.  
  
She reached out and touched his shoulder in a show of support and he offered a half smile. He would find Rose and do what he had to do.  
  
****  
  
Rose stood at the edge of the riverbank, watching the water rush by in the growing darkness. The cool evening-much cooler than any other evening in the desert thus far-helped to relieve her stress, and she attempted to lose herself in the sounds of nature and forget all about what had happened only a half hour ago by the bonfire.  
  
She was only allotted ten minutes of serenity, before her peace was shattered by another presence. Ali stood behind her, and she knew it without even having to turn around. Just the sound of his footsteps in the dirt was enough to signal his presence to her. She'd heard his footsteps everyday for two years when they'd walked to and from work together and she didn't need to see his face to determine it was him.  
  
"Go away," she said weakly, her will to fight him further disappearing quickly.  
  
"Rose, please listen to me," Ali said to her, his voice soft in the night air.  
  
"No. I can't listen to you any longer tonight. Just go," she pleaded, her voice ready to break, her eyes about to shed tears. She kept her back to Ali, refusing to look at him, but that didn't keep him at bay. Rose felt his presence near her, then his hands landed upon her shoulders. She shook from his touch and almost gave in. Almost.  
  
"Fine, I will say no more to you," he told her, his mouth next to her ear, causing her to shiver from the warm touch. "Instead, I will show you how sorry I am."  
  
Right after he spoke those words, his hands forced her around and she stood facing him.  
  
"Ali, please," she began to beg him to leave her alone, when his mouth covered hers, effectively cutting off her words.  
  
He kissed her with tenderness, his lips quivering with such real emotion that Rose ached to return the kiss. Her stubbornness, however, forced her to remain unmoving, and when she failed to kiss him back, Ali whispered, "Rose, I love you. Please believe me," against her mouth.  
  
Torn over how to respond, over what to believe about this man who was touching her like none had ever before, Rose trembled in his arms, unable to say anything. Suddenly, Ali exhaled a sharp breath, as though he had just been punched and slumped in Rose's arms.  
  
"Ali?" Rose asked.  
  
He said nothing, his eyes fluttering shut and as his legs buckled beneath him, Rose was unable to hold his body weight. She sunk to her knees with him, her arms still around him.  
  
"Ali!" she cried out. "Ali, what's wrong?"  
  
She laid him on the ground and moved a hand to his face to check for consciousness when she saw it. Blood covered her hand. Ali's blood! Then footsteps nearby caused Rose to look up and there, not ten feet away, were her brother and one of the men from Victor's group. They were both armed, Tony with a silenced handgun, the other man with an automatic rifle slung over his shoulder. After assessing the situation, it was obvious to Rose what had transpired. Tony had shot Ali in the back and neither had heard the shot because Tony's gun was equipped with a silencer.  
  
"Tony?" Rose asked upon a gasp.  
  
"Hey, Rosa," he returned, his voice cool and very unlike his affable personality. "Its time to come home."  
  
Suddenly the man with Tony moved forward and grabbed Rose by the arm. He yanked her away from Ali and for a man who appeared to be on the skinny side, he possessed quite a bit of strength and easily handled her.  
  
"Finish the bloke off, Tony," the man ordered, his voice holding a British dialect and his head nodding in the direction of Ali.  
  
Tony nodded and moved toward Ali. Rose could barely make out what Tony was doing, because his body was shielding her view. Her mind disbelieving of what had happened, she was unable to do much of anything besides stand there and watch as Tony kneeled down beside Ali, pointed his handgun and then pulled the trigger. **** 


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15  
  
It was going to kill him to do this. Tony already felt guilty that he had shot the Medjai warrior in the back. From the reaction of his sister, it was obvious she was close to this man who was now lying in the sand, unmoving. Tony had attempted to aim high and to the right, hoping to hit only the man's shoulder and not damage any vital organs. He was practiced enough with a firearm to shoot a target precisely, but he did not possess the nerve to shoot a person.  
  
He was in a situation, however, to either pull this off or be killed himself. He had seen the distrust growing in Victor's eyes and he also knew that Victor wanted to hurt Rosa once he got his hands on her. Tony's only choice to save his sister and this man now lying at his feet was to win an Academy Award for acting.  
  
His other motivation for wanting to remain tight with Victor, was the Fortress of Aten. Oscar Mann and Jean Danton had evil motives for wanting to find this fortress and thanks to Tony, they had already found it. In fact, as soon as this deed was done, he too would be joining them there. It would soon be seen whether or not the myth about this ancient fortress was real or not.  
  
Before that could take place, this awful act had to be done. Tony could never kill a man-that was why his father distrusted him so. And killing this Medjai was not going to happen either. So kneeling down close to the man, Tony looked for any sign of consciousness. Slowly, the warrior's eyes blinked open, but there was little clarity there. Instead, they were clouded with pain. Tony only hoped there was enough clarity for the man to understand.  
  
"Play dead, Medjai," Tony whispered to him.  
  
For a moment, their eyes locked and the Medjai gave an imperceptible nod. Then Tony raised the handgun and the Medjai looked at him with complete trust, not flinching in the least. Aiming far off target, but hopefully making it look real enough, Tony pulled the trigger and the Medjai closed his eyes.  
  
****  
  
"No." Rose began to protest, as her wrists were bound efficiently in handcuffs behind her back. She couldn't believe her brother, her non- confrontational brother, was shooting Ali. And when the faint pop of the silenced gun reached her ears, Rose was too stunned to cry out and she began to sink to her knees in horror. Her entire soul died in that moment when her brother killed Ali and she suddenly wished to be able to replay the entire night. For if she could do that, she would forgive Ali instead of running off in a fit of anger. She still loved him, there was no doubt about it, but she'd been too blinded by her own fury to realize that until now.  
  
Crying, squeezing her eyes shut and hoping it would erase what she had just witnessed, Rose hit the cool earth with her knees and then was cruelly yanked back to her feet by the Englishman holding her captive.  
  
"Stand," he ordered. "And don't get too heartbroken, sweetheart, you're old boy is waiting for you at the fortress." To Tony he called, "Make sure the guy's dead, Tony."  
  
"No pulse, Jeffreys, that usually means a person is dead," Tony returned, as he placed his fingers upon Ali's neck.  
  
Rose felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to go to Ali and see for herself. She couldn't believe he was dead. Not that strong, powerful warrior! He couldn't be dead, it just didn't make sense.  
  
"I'm sure Victor will want proof that the man is dead," Jeffreys added. "And I'll bet Oscar would like it as well."  
  
Rose watched through tear stained eyes as Tony reached down and clutched the golden Medjai charm that hung around Ali's neck. With a yank, it broke and he held it up for inspection.  
  
"This proof enough?" Tony inquired.  
  
"That'll do. Now let's move before anyone notices these two are missing."  
  
"No," Rose insisted, finally able to force words out. "I'm not going anywhere with you."  
  
"Rosa," Tony began to argue only to be cut off by Jeffreys as he again yanked on her cuffed hands and said, "You'll come with us and you won't say a word. Got it?"  
  
"The hell I won't," Rose said and began yelling at the top of her lungs. But barely a word left her throat before Jeffreys poked her in the arm.  
  
"I was hoping I wouldn't have to use this," he growled.  
  
"Ouch," Rose complained. "What was that?"  
  
When the man didn't answer and Rose began to feel a bit lightheaded and saw the syringe in him hand, she looked at her brother and asked, "Tony, what was that?"  
  
With a regretful look upon his handsome face, Tony replied, "Just a little something to make you more manageable, Rosa. I'm sorry."  
  
It was the last thing she heard before the world around her telescoped into nothing.  
  
****  
  
Yasmeen paced and paced across Iman's floor, anxious over the outcome of Ali's and Rose's confrontation. Meanwhile, Devraj sat on the couch, constantly watching Yasmeen's stalking movements.  
  
"Yasmeen," he finally spoke up. "Please, relax."  
  
"Relax?" she repeated. "How? How can I relax when I do not know if Ali has found Rose? Or if he has found her, is she even listening to him? And if she is listening to him and he is keeping his cool, is she going to forgive him in time for the wedding? After all, Rose is a strong willed woman. And very feisty. She's stubborn and.."  
  
"And very much like another woman I know," Devraj interrupted to add.  
  
Yasmeen halted her movements and looked at the man sitting on the couch. He was very different from Ali in a lot of ways; shy, soft spoken, rugged. Devraj was inwardly strong, but not outwardly bold and he was so very different than any other man she had ever been interested in before.  
  
"Are you referring to me?" Yasmeen asked.  
  
He gave a shrug and said, "If you view that as a compliment, then yes."  
  
She smiled then and nodded. "Yes, that is very much a compliment."  
  
"Then I was referring to you."  
  
His comment caused Yasmeen to let out a small laugh and when the sound hit Devraj's ears, he stood and replied, "I see I was able to distract you from your worry."  
  
Yasmeen allowed a long sigh to escape her mouth. "For a while," she said. "But Dev, they've been gone for two hours. I'm starting to worry. Maybe we should go find them."  
  
"They will not be missed at the celebration. Not for a while. Everyone is enjoying themselves. I can hear it from here," Devraj insisted.  
  
"I'm not worried about the festivities," Yasmeen corrected, "I'm worried about Rose marrying Ali tomorrow."  
  
A small frown invaded Devraj's face at Yasmeen's words. She had rarely seen him display much emotion before, aside from a few shy smiles and an occasional laugh, so this frown worried her enough to inquire, "Why are you frowning?"  
  
"Are you worried about Ali and Rose for your own situation?" he asked her hesitantly.  
  
"Yes," she answered and watched his frown deepen. "Because I do not want to marry Ali. I've said it several times, Dev, you've heard me."  
  
He gave a small nod, then questioned, "And why would you not want to marry the chief of the Medjai?"  
  
Yasmeen smiled broadly, then finally said the words she knew Devraj would never broach first, "Because I'm falling in love with his second in command."  
  
Finally, Devraj smiled widely at Yasmeen and reached out to caress her cheek. It was the first of such touches he'd dared bestow upon her but her words were an obvious invitation.  
  
"I think we should quit worrying about Ali and Rose and give up on trying to find them any time soon," Devraj announced. "I would rather stay here and worry about you and me."  
  
Yasmeen looped her arms around his neck and agreed, "I think that's a wonderful plan," before they kissed.  
  
****  
  
Ali had heard the sound of the second bullet Rose's brother had shot, but had not felt it. It was obvious Tony was not out to kill him, or he would be dead right now instead of feeling the incredible pain in his shoulder. He'd never been shot before. Granted, he'd shot others, but he'd been lucky enough until tonight to not have met with a bullet himself. It rather hurt, he reasoned, in the cloudiness that was overtaking his mind. He knew he would not be awake much longer and only prayed someone found him soon in case the bullet Tony had hit him with was accidentally a fatal shot.  
  
****  
  
Rose felt the heat of the sun upon her face before she saw anything. She wondered briefly what she was doing sleeping outside then slowly opened her eyes. Her mind was groggy, just as it had been when she'd suffered the blow to the head a week ago. But there was no searing pain in her head as there had been when she'd suffered the concussion. There was only a weak feeling throughout her body and a terrible thirst.  
  
A figure loomed nearby and she watched as its shadow came towards her. Her mind was still operating slowly. She had no idea where she was or what had happened to bring her to this place. All she saw above her was blue sky and all she felt below her was sand.  
  
"Rosa," a voice said and Rose turned her head in its direction.  
  
The voice belonged to the figure that was nearing her, but she still was not conscious enough to determine whom it belonged to.  
  
"Rosa, are you all right?" the voice asked and this time Rose recognized it.  
  
"Tony?" she asked.  
  
Tony's face loomed above her. His features were similar to hers. No one who saw them together could dispute they were related. His hair, however, was a lighter brown than hers and he stood a good six-foot tall though it was difficult to tell his height as he kneeled beside her.  
  
"Rosa, I have a lot I have to explain to you," Tony whispered urgently.  
  
"Tony, where am I? Why do I feel so terrible?" Rose asked. Then suddenly she remembered she'd been with Ali last night and she added, "And where is Ali?"  
  
Tony lifted Rose's head and held a canteen to her lips. "Here, drink first, then I'll explain everything."  
  
Rose took several sips and felt the thirst that was claiming her throat begin to dissipate. As her thirst dwindled her mind became clearer. She remembered arguing with Ali over her discovery of his true identity, then kissing him down by the river and then.the blood! She remembered the blood upon her hands from the gunshot wound he'd suffered thanks to her brother. As that image flashed through her mind and she stared at the remnants of blood upon her hands, she forced herself to a seated position and scooted away from her brother.  
  
"You shot Ali!" she cried. "Did you kill him?"  
  
Another male voice interrupted their conversation. It was a voice Rose hated and when she saw Victor's face, she cringed.  
  
"Yes, your brother killed your loving Medjai," Victor relayed. He held out his hand and dangling from his fingers was the necklace Rose had given back to Ali. It was the necklace that signified his Medjai heritage and now it was in Victor's possession.  
  
"How'd you get that?" Rose demanded.  
  
"Like I said, Tony killed your Medjai. How else would we have obtained this necklace?" Victor asked.  
  
Certainly Ali would never lose that necklace to anyone. So it must be true that Ali was dead.  
  
Overcome with grief, she felt warm tears flood her face. She closed her eyes to be alone in her grief, but Victor would not allow her the opportunity. Suddenly, he was squatting in front of her, his large, rough hand gripping her face and forcing her to open her eyes and look at him.  
  
"I don't know why you're so upset, Rosa," Victor spat out. "After all, that Medjai kidnapped you."  
  
"No, he saved me from you," Rose argued weakly, losing her strength and fortitude in Victor's presence. She hated that about herself, that he could frighten her so badly. She was strong and stubborn in front of Ali, why could she not be the same way in front of Victor?  
  
"Saved you? How so? I was only trying to get back what's mine," Victor said. "So tell me, what did that barbarian do to you? Hmmm? Did he hurt you? Did he abuse you? Did he make you do things you didn't want to do?"  
  
Rose said nothing in return. Victor was an evil, hateful man and arguing back would do nothing to help her situation. It was better to just let him have his say.  
  
Victor then reached out and toyed with the ends of her hair. Rose visibly shook from the contact and it only made Victor frown furiously at her.  
  
"You used to like my touch," he drawled.  
  
"That was when I was young and stupid," Rose retorted.  
  
Victor's face went blank and his dark eyes burrowed into her face with an unreadable expression. Rose, however, knew exactly what that meant and she steadied herself for what was going to come. When his palm connected with her face, she made no sound and created no reaction. If she did, then he would be satisfied that he had intimidated her. Her complete lack of emotion only fueled his rage further and he grasped her chin in his hand harshly and forced her eyes to his again.  
  
"So you're going to play tough, huh?" he inquired with a voice straining to hold on to its composure.  
  
Her face stung miserably, but she refused to give in to the pain. Instead, she steadied her voice and replied, "Who's playing?"  
  
Victor's mouth pulled into another frown and his hand tightened on her face.  
  
"You've developed an attitude these past few years, have you?" he asked.  
  
"Maybe I have," she returned as she placed both her hands on his wrist and forced his hand from her face. "And maybe I'm strong enough now to tell you where to go."  
  
Everything she had experienced in her life, and especially in the past week, was telling her to stand up to him. No longer was she going to allow her fear of him to cause her to be weak. Ali may be dead, but her resolve to escape Victor despite the fact that she would have no hero this time was building.  
  
"Why you miserable little bitch," he quipped lowly. Then he reared his hand back for another slap when Tony stepped in and said, "Enough for now, Vic."  
  
Victor halted his actions and looked up at Tony. "All right. I'll leave her be for now. But only because you did such a good job last night." Victor stood and slapped Tony on the back. "You proved yourself last night, Tony. I was beginning to think like your dad-that you couldn't be trusted. But now I know you have potential after all." Victor turned to walk away then halted and added, "And tell Rosa if she doesn't straighten out and lose that sassy attitude, I may just leave her here in 1930."  
  
When Victor's large frame was out of sight, Rose turned to Tony and inquired, "1930? Has he lost his mind completely, Tony?"  
  
Quickly dropping to his knees beside her and glancing around to ensure their privacy, Tony said, "Listen, Rosa. Its very important you understand me and trust me."  
  
There was an urgent look upon his face and though Rose was now sure Tony had killed Ali since Victor had his necklace, she was going to hear him out before she screamed and yelled all her frustrations at him.  
  
"Okay, go ahead," she said stiffly.  
  
Quietly, Tony explained, "I really believe we might be in the year 1930, Rosa. See, Victor hooked up with these men through a contact by the name of Jeffreys. He's the guy who gave you that nice little injection last night."  
  
Rose frowned and drawled, "Remind me to thank him for it later."  
  
Ignoring her remark, Tony continued, "Anyhow, these men we've joined are dangerous. The leader is a man by the name of Oscar Mann. He's German and he has a couple of buddies with him-one of which is a French historian. This historian, Danton, found this relic called the Staff of the Sun."  
  
"The Staff of the Sun?" Rose repeated. "These men aren't by any chance looking for the Fortress of Aten, are they?"  
  
"Yes, they were. I'm afraid they found it last night. That's also how I found you last night. This staff is mystical. It has these strange powers and it really works."  
  
Rose shook her head, trying to ward off the last of the fuzzy feeling in her brain from the strong sedative injection Jeffreys had given her and also trying to remember all that she and Ali had talked about in the Cave of Prophecies.  
  
"Yes, it does. These men also used it to kill Ali's father-the former chief of the Medjai," Rose explained. "And I'm afraid Ali and I killed a few of their men that we ran into a few days ago."  
  
"Just who is this Ali?" Tony inquired.  
  
Rose sighed and held up her left hand. On her finger was still the golden ring Ali had given her. It hurt her to look at it and remember just how much she loved Ali and just how stubborn she'd been the night before.  
  
"He's my fiancé," Rose explained. "At least, he was. We were going to get married. We'd been friends for a long while in California, and then Victor's men were sent after me and Ali rescued me. He also killed Victor's men. He's Medjai. Ali is.or was.the new chief of the Medjai."  
  
"He still is," Tony relayed and when Rose looked up at him with confusion, Tony said, "I didn't kill him last night. Or at least, I don't think I did. I shot him in the back only because I had to. If I hadn't followed through with Victor's orders, I would have been next to go and then there was no way I could protect you. I didn't shoot Ali that second time last night. I told him to pretend to be dead, then I fired a shot into the ground near his head. I could never kill anyone, Rosa, you know that."  
  
Utterly relieved and overjoyed at her brother's words, Rose threw her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely.  
  
"Oh, thank goodness," she breathed. "That means I'll be rescued soon. If Ali is still alive, he'll come looking for me."  
  
"No, he won't," Tony argued. "Rosa, we really are in the year 1930. Look around. We're at the ancient sight of Hamunaptra-more affectionately known as the City of the Dead."  
  
Rose glanced around her surroundings for the first time since she awoke and saw nothing but miles and miles of sand dunes, a few toppled ruins and half of a brick wall. They were at an ancient sight, certainly, but there was no way they were in the year 1930.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, Tony. There is no possible way to travel back in time," Rose argued. "Sure, there are ancient myths that talk about such possibilities, but it just isn't possible."  
  
Not wanting to waist his time arguing with his sister over the reality of time travel, Tony dropped the subject and continued his explanation. "Whatever year we're in, Victor is helping this man, Oscar, to carry out his evil plans. The man is greedy and hell bent on changing the past. Last night, they murdered five Medjai in cold blood, took their weapons and horses and came here. And if you or I step out of line, we'll be just as dead too."  
  
Rose glanced around again and saw five dark Arabian horses and one gray packhorse tied near a ruin and several men looking around the rest of the ruins, studying them closely. There was Victor, the man Tony had said was named Jeffreys, two white men heavily armed, an older man with no weapons, and an Egyptian who also carried several weapons. Suddenly, she believed Tony's words about just how dead they would be if they stepped out of line.  
  
"Rosa, don't you dare mention a word to anyone that your boyfriend is still alive. Understand?" Tony asked.  
  
Rose nodded her head. "I'll be the distraught, grieving girlfriend," she assured him. "But I won't have to be for long, because Ali and his warriors will save me."  
  
Tony sighed, hoping someone would save her and then handed her the canteen. "Drink some more water and find some shade. And whatever you do, don't piss off Victor again, sis, or he'll really hurt you."  
  
****  
  
Ali wasn't sure what time it was when he finally awoke, but it was light outside and standing in the room was his mother, Devraj, Yasmeen, one of the village doctors, Hammad and Yasmeen's father, Yousef. He blinked several times and tried to sit up in the bed he was in, but the doctor put a firm hand on his bare chest and pushed him back down. That's when Ali felt the incredible pain in his shoulder. He remained still for a moment, trying to recall the events that had landed him at the doctor's and looked at each and every person in the room. His mother had been crying, her eyes still red and puffy. Yasmeen too looked distressed and stood closely to Devraj, his arm around her. Yousef seemed relieved, the doctor looked concerned and Hammad appeared to be completely at ease.  
  
"What is everyone doing here?" Ali finally asked.  
  
"You were shot, Ali," Yasmeen spoke up. "The bullet narrowly missed your shoulder-blade and lodged itself in your upper right deltoid muscle. You were lucky it was a small caliber bullet. Dev and I found you late last night along the river, unconscious."  
  
Everything then flooded his mind and he remembered very clearly the events of the night before. Stubbornly, he pushed to a seated position despite the doctor's protests.  
  
"Where is Rose?" he demanded.  
  
"We do not know," Devraj spoke up. "Who did this to you, my lord? Was it Rose?"  
  
"No, of course not," he returned. "It was her brother. And Jeffreys was there too." Ali groaned as another wave of pain shot through his shoulder. He gritted his teeth and continued. "Rose's brother did not mean to hurt me. I believe he was forced to. He had a chance to kill me, I was unarmed and unawares, but he chose not to. We must find them and get Rose back."  
  
Ali stood and his legs were not ready to carry his weight. Devraj released Yasmeen and caught him with the help of the doctor.  
  
"Ali, you must rest," Devraj insisted.  
  
The doctor seconded Devraj's statement but Ali refused to listen.  
  
"I must find Rose before she is hurt," Ali said.  
  
"But if she is with her brother, she will be safe," Yasmeen spoke up.  
  
"Not necessarily. Her brother would never harm her, but her ex-fiancé, Victor, certainly would." Ali regained his strength and stood on his own, though his legs were unsteady and wobbly.  
  
"And what of the Fortress of Aten?" Yousef inquired. "How can you protect it and find your woman at the same time?"  
  
"I will manage," Ali answered.  
  
"You are injured," Yousef argued.  
  
"I will manage," Ali said sternly and was about to order Devraj to join him in getting his men together when his cousin burst through the doctor's door.  
  
Aria was winded from her run and spoke quickly, delivering the horrible news in a rush that the warriors guarding the fortress were dead.  
  
****  
  
They watched from the ridge-top far away as interlopers continued to comb the ancient sight. They were not surprised the sight had once again been compromised, but they were growing weary of it. Their duty was to guard the desert and despite any weariness, they would continue their duties. And as soon as night fell, their mission would begin.  
  
**** 


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16  
  
Rose had been lucky enough to avoid Victor all day. She wasn't lucky enough, however, to avoid him as the sun dipped below the horizon and the moon began to make its appearance.  
  
Sitting in front of the campfire someone had started, talking quietly with Tony, Victor approached with another man and sat very near her. Rose attempted to slide away, but Victor threw an arm around her shoulders and kept her near.  
  
"Oscar, I'd like to introduce you to my Rosalinda," Victor said proudly. "What do you think of her?"  
  
The man Victor called Oscar was middle-aged with white-blonde hair and pale blue eyes. The moment Rose saw his face, she disliked him. There was something to be wary of in his eyes, he was dangerous, and she only hoped Ali would be prepared to face this advisory.  
  
"She is beautiful," Oscar answered and Rose shuddered at the way his blue eyes roamed over her face.  
  
"She is," Victor agreed, turning his head to look down at her. "But she's been a very naughty girl. Haven't you, sweetie?"  
  
Recalling Tony's words from earlier about not angering Victor further, Rose bit her lip and turned her eyes away from Victor's squarely cut face. The only thing about his face that gave her comfort was the bruise upon his left cheek that Ali had put there. She almost started laughing as she remembered that scene.  
  
"So, Rose?" Oscar asked her, and Rose turned back to look at him as he spoke. "How do you like our City of the Dead?"  
  
"Its interesting," she replied, not wanting to sound too sarcastic and say it was nothing but a pile of rubble.  
  
"And it has an interesting history," Oscar continued. "Four years ago, a curse was unleashed upon this site and upon Egypt in the form of an immortal being. He was a creature so deadly, he could suck the life-blood from a person. He was said to be immortal, but somehow he was put back in his grave. A grave right here beneath the sand."  
  
Rose subtly wiggled her shoulder, trying to rid Victor's hand from her arm. He kept his hold on her, however, and refused to let her go.  
  
"Nice story," she then said and was sorry she had allowed the sarcasm to escape for Victor had heard it in her voice and he squeezed her arm painfully.  
  
"Be nice to our host, Rosa," he warned.  
  
"It is all right," Oscar said with a sneer upon his lips. "I am certain she will lose her attitude eventually. Allow her to settle in. Once she discovers that the women here in this time are more demure, she will conform."  
  
"In this time? What does that mean?" she asked, curiously.  
  
"It means we're in a completely different era," Oscar answered. "You have heard of the Fortress of Aten, haven't you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then you understand its powers. We used those powers and thus we are back in 1930. It is a prime year. Not only is Hamunaptra still around and in relatively good condition, but the year is ripe for a man such as myself to make himself known," Oscar told her.  
  
Very curious over this man's words, Rose leaned forward, staring over the fire at him, trying to see if he was serious. Everything about his countenance told her he believed his words, so she asked, "What are you saying?"  
  
"I'm saying we have traveled back in time, using the Fortress of Aten," Oscar said. "We have come to this year because the world is plunging into a devastating economic depression. It is weak and each country is too worried about their own internal affairs to be able to respond to any serious threat of power. I plan to change history and the economic forecast of the future. When we return to 2001, you will see a new world with me and my friends as the leaders."  
  
Rose gaped at the man, thinking he must really be demented to believe such a farce, then forced the look from her face fearing angering him and asked, "And this place? Why are you starting your quest here amongst a pile of ruins?"  
  
"We have come to this spot on a little sight-seeing tour," he answered. "A friend of mine is looking for a book and I owe him this indulgence. It is said to be buried in this spot along with more treasure than one could imagine."  
  
"Really?" Rose asked, knowing she sounded disbelieving, but not caring for his story was growing more far-fetched than any that Ali had told her. "And this treasure has just remained buried in this spot for centuries and no one has bothered to take it?"  
  
"Like I said, this is a cursed place," Oscar replied. "It is said to be protected by a powerful creature. Many have tried to uncover the treasure of this site, and many treasure seekers have failed, scared away by the legend of the creature that lurks below the earth."  
  
Talk about scary campfire stories, Rose thought, just as an eerie cry erupted in the otherwise quiet night. Rose was certain she had heard that cry before. Was it a desert animal or bird that was catching her attention? She wasn't sure. As she struggled with those thoughts, another man joined their small group. He was the eldest member of the villains and possessed a round, approachable face. His expression, however, showed only apprehension as he took over Oscar's explanation.  
  
"Or, perhaps it is that treasure seekers fear the Medjai," the man postulated.  
  
"Danton, you worry too much about a group that was quiet ineffectual at guarding the fortress back in 2001. What makes you think the Medjai of 1930, with the inferior technology that exists in this time, would be any match for us now?" Oscar posed.  
  
"Because, I have read much about them," the man returned. "I tell you, Mr. Mann, they are not to be trifled with."  
  
Oscar turned away from the man and again looked in Rose's direction. "You'll have to excuse Danton, I'm afraid all his historic studies have tainted his mind."  
  
"I don't know," Rose answered. "I've seen the Medjai in action before." She paused to look at Victor square in the face and added, "They did disarm Victor and his group like they were mere children."  
  
Victor frowned down at her and Oscar chuckled. It was not a laugh of good humor, but one of deviousness.  
  
"Perhaps," he agreed reluctantly. "However, we plan to stay here only long enough to satisfy Danton's curiosities and have no designs on meeting the 1930's version of the Medjai. Then, I'm afraid we must move on. Europe awaits us. As I have already explained, it along with the rest of the world is in turmoil right now with the American stock market crash of 1929 plunging the world into a depression. And my poor motherland of Germany is feeling the bite the worst. They will be thankful I have arrived in this era."  
  
Rose shook her head, thinking all these men had been drinking heavily over the years to actually believe they had time traveled.  
  
"You are all living some sort of twisted fantasy," Rose insisted, finally shaking Victor's hand free and jumping to her feet. "I mean, time travel is impossible. And granted, the stories I've been hearing since arriving in Egypt are quite interesting, but definitely not true."  
  
Jean Danton jumped to his feet too and countered, "Oh, but they are, Madame. And once I find the Book of the Dead I will show you just how true all this is." Then he held up the long staff that had been resting in his hands, but which Rose had not noticed until now, and added, "Just look at his. The Staff of the Sun is a perfect example of just how real the secrets of Egypt are. And with this and the Fortress of Aten, Mr. Mann and myself will surely make a huge impact on the world-bigger than anyone who has yet lived!"  
  
"Danton!" Oscar suddenly said roughly. "Sit. You will frighten our guest."  
  
Frighten was right. Rose was certain she was surrounded by escapees from the mental ward. She prayed Ali hurried to rescue her from this madness.  
  
****  
  
"My lord, we are ready," a voice said quietly next to him.  
  
He nodded, then turned to his men.  
  
"We have been watching the interlopers all day. They are armed, but right now they are unawares. Kill them all but the woman. She is obviously a prisoner," their leader said, then mounted his horse and galloped toward the City of the Dead.  
  
****  
  
Standing next to Rose and throwing another arm around her shoulders, Victor said, "Don't worry. I've learned that very little frightens my Rosa." Then he waved to the men and turned them both away from the fire and said in parting, "Excuse us, Rosalinda and I have a lot of catching up to do."  
  
Rose tried to fight subtly, but she was no match for Victor's strength. She feared what he had planned and all the while she racked her brain trying to think of a way to escape.  
  
As they neared a small tent and Victor's grip tightened, Rose knew exactly what kind of catching up he had planned. She, however, was not going to let him have her and she balked just before the entrance to the shelter.  
  
"Vic, come on," she said. "What are you doing with these guys?"  
  
Victor halted, interested for the moment in explaining his plans to her.  
  
"These guys have a plan," Victor explained. "I mean, a real huge plan. They have the means and the brains to literally gain more wealth and power than anyone could imagine. By the time we're all done time traveling through history, we will own everyone. Why would I not want in on that?"  
  
"And what about my father? You're just going to quit his business and join with these men?" she asked.  
  
"Why do you care about Al?" he returned. "You ran out on him. And what we're going to accomplish is going to make your father's business look incredibly small in comparison."  
  
He stepped forward and grabbed her upper arms. "Just think, Rosa, we could have the world at our fingertips. You and me. That's how it was going to be in Chicago before you left. But this.this is huge. Don't you want to be in on it?"  
  
Victor was showing a moment of weakness for her. Every once in a while when they'd been together, he'd allow that to slip. Part of him did care for her, she reasoned, but most of him just wanted to control her.  
  
Not wanting to ruffle his feathers, Rose shrugged diplomatically and asked, "What would I do with all that power?"  
  
He chuckled and moved a hand to her face. "You never were interested in money and power, were you, babe? Part of me has to love you for that."  
  
The charm would only last so long, Rose figured. Because as soon as she turned him away, he'd become the thug she was so used to.  
  
"Yeah?" Rose asked back, unable to control her mouth. "Well, not one single part of me loves you. Why else would I have run away five years ago?"  
  
She saw the change in his eyes, though it was dark. He gave her that blank stare and again grabbed her arms and squeezed harshly.  
  
"You'll love me, Rosa," he growled. "You'll love me again if I have to force you to." Then he gave her a push toward the tent. "And we're going to start tonight."  
  
Rose kept her wits about her as she fell to her knees in front of the tent entrance from his push. She was going to fight him if it killed her.  
  
He began to bend down to push her further into the tent when the pounding of horse hooves invaded the night and another high-pitched cry reached them. Everyone in the camp stood and cocked their weapons. Tony appeared from behind a ruin, looking confused and luckily Victor forgot all about Rose and turned toward the sound.  
  
"What the hell?" he asked, and when his back was to Rose, she jumped to her feet and yanked the handgun out of his belt. It was the only weapon he had on him and after she took it, she ran as fast as she could in the thick sand.  
  
"Rosa!" he yelled at her, and she turned to see him pursuing her.  
  
She heard one last cry and knew exactly who was invading the camp. It was the Medjai. Ali had finally come for her!  
  
Darkly robed warriors tore into camp upon their swift steeds. Their war cries echoed eerily through the City of the Dead and everyone stopped to look at and assess the attackers. Even Victor paused, but Rose continued running toward the warriors not daring to stop and heed their entrance.  
  
"Help! Help!" she called in the night, tucking Victor's gun in to the waist of her jeans and waving her arms. "Ali! Over here."  
  
With the darkness of the night and the swiftness of the attack, Rose couldn't determine which veiled man was Ali. A small figure upon a horse, however, rode towards her and held out a hand.  
  
In a voice indicating more of a boy than a man, the warrior said, "Lady, here. Grab my hand."  
  
As the small warrior halted his horse next to Rose and reached down to clasp her hand, Victor reached up and grabbed the boy from his saddle.  
  
"Damned if I'll let you take her anywhere," Victor growled as he tossed the boy to the sand, a hand gripping his robe.  
  
He then lifted a fist to punch at the boy, when Rose drew the handgun from her waist and threatened, "Touch him, and I'll take you out, Vic. Don't think I won't either. Because I will."  
  
As she made her threat, gunfire erupted all around them, and Victor being more concerned for his own welfare, dropped the boy and dove for cover.  
  
Rose glanced up to see Oscar's men having the advantage over the Medjai. Several warriors fell from their mounts, victims of bullets, and Rose wondered why the Medjai were only firing back sporadically. Didn't Ali and his men possess equal firepower? Why were so many of the warriors using only their swords?  
  
She had little time to contemplate the tactics the Medjai were using, for the little warrior who's head only reached as high as her shoulder, was yanking on her arm, saying in a hurried voice, "Come, we must leave."  
  
They mounted his horse and the boy's head whipped back and forth, looking for an escape route. At the same time, a deep warrior voice cried out a command in Arabic and all the Medjai who were left uninjured turned their horses and raced out of the city. Rose and the small warrior followed.  
  
****  
  
They'd had no choice but to retreat. It was unusual the Medjai found themselves out-matched. But these interlopers possessed weapons that were obviously far superior. Their rifles had fired consecutively and he had not seen them reload once. Who were these men who had invaded the City of the Dead and how could they be stopped? Perhaps the woman they had rescued would have they knowledge they needed.  
  
****  
  
The ride through the desert behind the boy warrior was a short one. They rode but a few miles, climbed a rise and then stopped. Rose slid off the back of the horse and the small warrior jumped down beside her. The other Medjai began to dismount their horses and Rose's stomach fluttered with anticipation as she searched the eyes of each warrior, trying to find Ali.  
  
A tall rider with long raven hair rode his black horse in front of her. His dark, unmistakable eyes burrowed into her face and Rose knew instantly she had found Ali.  
  
He dismounted and as soon as his feet were stable upon the ground, Rose rushed at him and threw her arms around his neck.  
  
"Ali, thank goodness!" she cried.  
  
She squeezed him tightly, then pulled down his veil and kissed his lips soundly. Ali barely responded, his lips still upon hers and his hands rested lightly upon her hips as though he couldn't decide if he wanted to touch her or not.  
  
Breaking the kiss and burying her head in his solid chest, Rose sobbed, "Ali, I'm so sorry that I told you I didn't want to marry you last night. I do want to marry you. And I don't care that you're the chief of the Medjai. I love you."  
  
He remained quiet and Rose sensed the rest of the warriors hovering nearby. She wondered for a moment if he was hurt from the recent gunfight or if her brother's bullet had injured him badly. That could be the only explanation for his muteness. Moving her hands to his face and looking at him urgently, Rose asked, "Are you hurt, Ali? Are you." Her words trailed off as she saw bluish-green tattoos upon the cheeks of the man in front of her. They were the same marks Ali possessed upon his chest. Then she looked into the man's eyes and was confronted with a cold, hard stare that Ali would surely never give her.  
  
"You're not Ali," she said quietly, disbelieving what she was seeing. She saw a thin line of beard along the man's jaw-line and remembered Ali had only worn a goatee. Then she tugged on a strand of raven hair and noticed it was longer and wavier than Ali's had been. She pushed the turban from his head and saw another ancient tattoo upon his forehead. Aside from those few differences, however, this man could have been Ali. They looked like identical twins.  
  
"Who are you?" Rose questioned, feeling the stares of the other Medjai upon her back. Her hands were still resting on the man in front of her--one touching his hair curiously, the other on his chest. Normally, she felt uneasy touching strangers so intimately, but she felt she knew this man. She was certain she knew him and he reminded her so much of Ali, it only felt natural to touch him so.  
  
Then she remembered the stories in the cave Ali had told her and the explanation Yasmeen had given her last night about the history of the Medjai and Rose knew exactly who was standing in front of her.  
  
"You're Ardeth Bay," she said upon a breathless gasp. She touched his face again and asked, "But how?"  
  
With little ceremony Ardeth removed her hands from his face and stepped back from her.  
  
"How do you know my name?" he questioned in English, with an accent heavier than Ali's. "And who are you? Who are those men?"  
  
He took little time with greetings or courtesies, she noticed, and that was very unlike Ali.  
  
"I'm Rose." she began to explain, but halted as she realized how absurd her explanation would be. She was a woman from the future. How bizarre would that sound to the ears of these men! And how bizarre it sounded to herself. Had she really been catapulted back in time? Had the myth of the Fortress of Aten just been proven?  
  
"Tell me where you came from," Ardeth demanded.  
  
"Well, you're certainly a cheery fellow," Rose quipped, forgetting for the moment the incredible revelation she had just experienced about the fortress and feeling rather put off by Ardeth's abruptness.  
  
Suddenly, a stern-faced warrior was standing in front of her, glowering at her from under his turban.  
  
"You speak with disrespect to our chief, woman," he warned. "Who are you to talk so?"  
  
The little warrior who had ridden her to this spot stepped forward and pointed to her sweatshirt.  
  
"Look," he announced in English. "She wears the Greek god of victory. Is she Greek?"  
  
Rose furrowed her brow, wondering just what this boy was talking about when she realized the logo on her sweatshirt read "Nike." She let out a small laugh and said, "No, this is just a logo. A brand name. They make sports apparel."  
  
Everyone around her stared at her as if she had just spoken in an unrecognizable tongue. Even Ardeth Bay stared at her strangely.  
  
Suddenly the stern man who had spoken so harshly to her just a moment ago looked her up and down disapprovingly and circled her for inspection. He spoke in English, obviously just to show her his distaste, and said, "Look at her, my lord. She is dressed like no woman I have ever seen before. There are letters written on her shirt and her hair," he reached out and tugged on the ends, "it is too short for any woman to wear. Her accent is certainly American, but I have never seen any American woman act as she does and blatantly lay affection upon a Medjai chief."  
  
Rose jerked her head out of his reach and warned, "Back off, buddy. Touch me again and I'll knock you silly."  
  
The man glared at her. "You wanted us to rescue this woman, my lord? What for?" The man then grabbed her face and drew his scimitar. He touched the sharp point to her cheek and insisted, "I could kill her with one quick swipe, my lord. Say the word and we can return her carcass to her friends in Hamunaptra."  
  
Rose placed her hands on his wrist, trying to pry his hand from her face but to no avail. She feared these Medjai of the 1930s. They were no doubt more brutal and untrusting than Ali's generation. She wondered how she could free herself of this man, when a small hand touched the ring on her finger.  
  
"Rashid, no!" the boy warrior cried. "Look! Look what she wears upon her hand."  
  
Slowly, Rashid released her and his eyes moved to her ring. He lifted her hand in his and when recognition entered his countenance, he quickly dropped her hand, replaced his sword and bowed before her.  
  
"Forgive me," he said quietly. "I did not realize you wore that ring."  
  
There was a murmuring amongst the men and Rose glanced down at the ring, wondering why it had humbled Rashid so quickly.  
  
Ardeth stepped in front of her and lifted her hand. When his eyes landed on the ring they showed with emotion for a brief second. Then slowly, he released her hand and asked, "Why do you wear the ring of the wife of a Medjai chief?"  
  
"It's a long story," she answered.  
  
"That ring," Ardeth continued, "it holds the symbols of our tribe. It would appear as if you were my wife, but that is impossible, because I have no wife." He crossed his arms and stood stoically in front of her.  
  
"Of course I'm not your wife," Rose explained. "I was to marry Ali, your grandson."  
  
****  
  
Few things surprised Ardeth. This woman's words, however, sent a shock through his system. How could she confess to being engaged for marriage to his grandson when he was but thirty and had no wife or children of his own?  
  
He studied the woman in front of him for a long moment. She was very pretty with intriguing blue eyes. Her attire was strange and her manner quite bold. She snapped at his warriors as if she feared nothing from them and that was dangerous ground to tread. Yet she wore a Medjai ring with the symbols of his tribe engraved in gold, so she must know something of his tribe and their ways.  
  
"Tell me, woman," he began when she interrupted him to insist, "It's Rose."  
  
He ignored her interruption and continued, "How is it that you came upon that ring? And just where do you come from? Where do those men at Hamunaptra come from?"  
  
"If I tell you, you'll surely think I'm insane," Rose answered.  
  
"I have seen stranger things in the desert, I am sure," Ardeth argued.  
  
"And since I came to Egypt with your grandson, I have seen nothing but strange things too," Rose quipped then inquired, "Do you know about the Fortress of Aten?"  
  
"The fortress?" he returned. "You know of the fortress?"  
  
"Yes, its how I got here."  
  
Rose's admission sent a murmur of incredulous belief through Ardeth's men. The Fortress of Aten was rumored to control the power of time. The Medjai had always been aware of its possible power, but until now, had never heard of anyone wielding it. This woman, however, in her strange clothing and brave manner could very possibly have been a traveler through time.  
  
"Are you telling me you traveled in time using the Fortress of Aten?" Ardeth asked and circled her himself looking her up and down, trying to force his mind to comprehend just what this woman had said.  
  
"I guess that's how I got here. I was kidnapped by those men at Hamunaptra," Rose said. "I woke up here and just assumed we were still back in 2001 until I ran into you."  
  
"And you know who I am, how?" Ardeth posed, carefully probing this woman's story. He wanted proof that she truly was a Medjai ally from the future before he gave her his trust.  
  
"Ali told me. You're the one who brought the Medjai into the modern times. You're going to be single-handedly responsible for turning your warriors into people who can blend in with the modern world. You're going to."  
  
"Enough!" Ardeth growled, cutting off her rambling explanation. "That proves nothing to me. How do I know you're not a spy for those men at Hamunaptra?"  
  
"Well, if you thought that, why in the hell did you bring me along for the ride?" Rose countered.  
  
Ardeth halted his pacing and looked sharply at her. "What did you just say?"  
  
"I asked, why in the hell you rescued me if you thought I was a spy."  
  
"Do all women talk so.disrespectfully in the year..2001, was it?" he asked, completely taken off balance by this woman's language. She not only acted boldly, she spoke like no woman he'd ever heard before.  
  
"Its slang. Its quite common in my time." Rose then shook her head and began laughing. "You know, until I laid eyes on you, I never would have thought the Fortress of Aten was real. Time travel! Who would have thought? I'm completely blown away. And now you don't believe me. Funny, I was the one who never believed Ali when he was telling me stories about the secrets of Egypt while we were holed away in that Cave of Prophecies."  
  
"You have seen that cave?" Ardeth questioned, finally hearing something from her that hinted she knew more about the Medjai.  
  
"Yes. My picture is in it, after all," Rose answered. "Along with your name and your son's name, Ali's name and supposedly Ali's son's name. Ali told me you were the one who helped to defeat some creature that was brought back to life and created plagues, and then you had to battle some army made of sand."  
  
Ardeth stared at her intensely for several moments, then finally asked, "You know about the battle with Imhotept?"  
  
"Is that the creature's name?"  
  
Ardeth nodded, then said, "And what of this army? Was it the Army of Anubis?"  
  
"I can't remember," Rose said. "Could have been."  
  
Another murmur went up through the crowd of warriors and suddenly the small warrior moved in front of Ardeth and bravely looked up at him. "My lord, I am sure she speaks the truth. I believe her and so must you."  
  
Ardeth glanced down at the boy with a comical expression.  
  
"Hammad, I am afraid your boldness knows no bounds," Ardeth quipped. "First, you defy my orders and ride into the City of the Dead. Then, you interrupt both Rashid and myself with your insistence. When you are an elder warrior, then you may pose your opinion. Until then, follow and learn. Understand?"  
  
The boy's shoulders sank but immediately Rose grabbed him and spun him around to face her.  
  
"Hammad? Is that your name?" she asked with much excitement.  
  
"It is," he answered.  
  
"And how old are you?"  
  
"I am twelve," he announced proudly, as he threw his shoulders back and stood as tall as he could.  
  
Rose laughed and threw her arms around the boy. "Where I come from," she told him, "you're a lot older than twelve. You're the eldest member of the tribe and you are very wise."  
  
"I am?" the boy asked and Rose pulled away and nodded at him.  
  
"Enough," Ardeth interrupted with his order. "We must know about those men at Hamunaptra, woman, and you are going to tell us how to defeat them and their weapons."  
  
****  
  
Ardeth Bay, Ali's "famous" grandfather, was certainly not the most patient of men. His mission was obvious, and Rose was interrupted by his insistence. Slowy, she straightened and stepped back from Hammad. How strange to see the wise old man a mere child. And what a brave child at that! But she could think about that later, right now, Ardeth Bay was demanding answers.  
  
"Those men, Ardeth," Rose began slowly, wondering if her using his first name would anger him, "are armed with automatic rifles that can shoot a magazine of bullets faster than your old Springfield rifles can fire two rounds. And their leader, Oscar Mann, has plans to change history."  
  
If it was at all possible for Ardeth to look more serious than he already did, her words caused him to do just that. His dark eyes narrowed to mere slits and his mouth deepened in what could only be described as an angry frown. He stepped closer to her, his six-foot, two-inch frame towering above her as he asked lowly, "And just how do you defeat such weapons?"  
  
Rose gave a shrug. "You're the warrior, figure it out."  
  
His face was a mere inch from hers and Rose could smell the desert sand on his clothes.  
  
"Are you being coy on purpose?" he inquired.  
  
"I'm only being honest. I don't know how you can defeat them," she answered. "But I certainly hope you do, because those men are dangerous and I really need to get back to 2001. I have no idea what shape your grandson is in and I have to find him."  
  
"Tell me no more of this future you come from," he warned quietly, almost in a whisper. "Tell me only of these men."  
  
Rose sighed, then took a good five minutes to tell Ardeth everything she knew about Victor, Oscar, Jean Danton, Jeffreys and her brother. She pleaded with him to not harm Tony, but made it quite clear he could do as he pleased with the rest.  
  
"I will do as I please with all of them," he assured her. "I can give you no guarantees that I can save your brother. If he survives our next raid, so be it. But those men must be gone from Hamunaptra and from this time. It will only change history for the worst if they succeed."  
  
"You can say that again," Rose replied under her breath, then asked, "How did you stumble upon us anyhow?"  
  
"Hamunaptra is a site we guard fiercely. The creature you spoke of earlier is buried there and should he ever be returned to life again, I fear what he would do to the world. I nearly lost my life trying to defeat him last time. There can not be a second time."  
  
His words held such conviction. It was quite obvious to Rose that this man's entire life was dedicated to guarding the desert. Ali's actions and words had held a similar dedication, but not as extreme. Ali had found a balance between life and duty, whereas this man had not.  
  
"And does this creature also command that army you were talking about? The Army of Anubis that you defeated?" Rose inquired.  
  
Ardeth took a step back and glanced at his warriors who were listening intently. Their eyes were large with surprise and Rose wondered why her words had caused such a reaction from them.  
  
Looking back at Rose with some anxiety, Ardeth answered, "We have not fought the Army of Anubis."  
  
"Apparently you will," Rose said, still finding this situation to be merely incomprehensible. Perhaps it was that injection she'd received the night before? Maybe she was still asleep, sedated, and this was just some bizarre dream? She hoped, but she seriously doubted that.  
  
"Yes, we will. Our prophets have predicted it for centuries. But they have never predicted the outcome," Ardeth revealed.  
  
"Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. Or maybe you just think I'm insane," Rose said wearily. She was growing tired and just wanted to sleep, hoping it would make all these strange happenings feel somehow less strange.  
  
"I think," Ardeth began as he looked at her with less apprehension and more trust, "that my warriors and I should make a plan of action." Then he placed a hand on Hammad's small back and pushed the boy toward Rose. "Meanwhile, why don't you and our wise elder here get reacquainted."  
  
He left with the briefest of smiles and Rose realized Ardeth Bay did possess a small inkling of humor after all. ****  
  
The dust settled in the City of the Dead and an eerie silence filled the night. It was a dead silence. Not a single sound ensued and Tony took that as a good sign. If the Medjai were still around, there would be some sound, some hint. Carefully, he crawled out from under the fallen pillar he'd been hiding under and glanced around. There were dead bodies-all Medjai-and Oscar's men were regrouping slowly appearing from out of their own cover. The silence continued until Victor's voice broke the night.  
  
"Damn it all to hell!" he shouted and as Tony rounded another prone pillar, he saw Victor kick angrily at the sand.  
  
"What is it, Vic?" Tony inquired.  
  
"They took Rosa again. Again! Can you believe it?" he snapped and then halted his tantrum and stood with hands upon his hips.  
  
"And you know what's the worst part of it all?" he continued. "The worst part is, your sister held me at gunpoint to escape with them! I swear, when I get my hands on her I'm going to kill her. To hell with your father wanting her back and to hell with you for wanting to protect her. I'm going to kill her!"  
  
There was a dark fire raging in Victor's eyes and Tony knew it was wise not to argue with him or comment. Let Victor have his outburst and hoped to God that Rosa was safe with these Medjai like she had been safe with them in their own era.  
  
Oscar's group joined them at that moment, and it was apparent that one was missing. His friend and pilot, Eric, was not present.  
  
"Where's Eric?" Tony asked, wondering if the Medjai had hit at least one mark.  
  
A cold, hard expression filled Oscar's face and he said with little emotion, "Dead."  
  
Tony said nothing in return. He was standing between two very volatile men and one wrong word to either would mean certain death. He would have to continue to play along and hope he could thwart their insane plans to change history.  
  
"So, what's the plan, Oscar?" Victor inquired after a long, tension-filled silence.  
  
"The plan continues," Oscar said. "We are down one more man, but that will not stop us." Then he looked at the five dead Medjai warriors on the ground a few yards away, turned to Jean Danton and added, "It appears as if your Medjai warriors of the 1930's are worthless. They pose us little danger. But I must insist we cut your archeological expedition short and begin moving on. In case they do come back, I would rather not have to waist any more ammunition killing them."  
  
The group agreed, and Jean agreed reluctantly. They all began the process of packing their supplies and gathering their horses. They would move on shortly and if the Medjai never found them again, it was entirely up to Tony to stop them. *** 


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17  
  
The Medjai waited in darkness, their horses secured a good half-mile back. Hamunaptra was surrounded, and this time, Ardeth had no intention of attacking boldly and in the open. This time, he and his warriors would sneak in and kill each and every man where they stood-unawares. The woman, Rose, she had asked they not kill her brother, but Ardeth could not do as she wished. He would risk no more warriors, for five were already dead. It would be easiest and quickest to kill every man.  
  
**** "Are you really from the future?" the boy asked for the tenth time and Rose stood from the ground where'd she'd sat since the warriors had left for a return trip to Hamunaptra and began to pace.  
  
"Yes, Hammad. I'm from the future where people communicate via email and drive ninety miles an hour on the freeway at rush-hour," she answered him, anxious over what the Medjai planned to do at Hamunaptra. She prayed they killed Victor, but spared her brother. If Tony died in this invasion, she'd only have herself to blame. It was her fault for running away five years ago that Tony was even involved in this. He had always hung in the background, trying not to interfere with Victor's and hers relationship or with father's work. He had always kept to himself. Now, he was thrust in the middle of some bizarre adventure that she herself was still disbelieving.  
  
"Email?" the boy asked with much confusion.  
  
"Look, after this entire nightmare is over, I'll tell you anything you want to know about the future. But right now, we have to see what Ardeth is doing," Rose insisted, starting towards the boy's horse.  
  
"No!" Hammad cried. "You cannot defy our chief!"  
  
"Who, Ardeth? Why not?" Rose asked.  
  
Hammad's face showed pure terror.  
  
"Ardeth Bay would be very angry with us if we disobeyed his orders," Hammad said.  
  
"And you disobeyed his orders earlier and all he did was frown at you," Rose insisted. She swung onto the back of Hammad's dark horse. "Coming?"  
  
When Hammad continued to hesitate, Rose asked, "What? Are you chicken?" She had to get Hammad to agree because she had no idea how to get back to Hamunaptra.  
  
"Chicken?" the boy asked, perplexed.  
  
"It means you're a coward," Rose clarified.  
  
At the thought of this woman questioning his bravery, the young warrior puffed out his chest and declared, "I am no coward. And, I will ride in the front, lady. It is my horse after all."  
  
Rose chuckled and slid back, allowing the boy to mount the horse in front of her.  
  
"By all means," she drawled, and together they rode the few miles back to the darkened City of the Dead.  
  
****  
  
The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up and a chill raced down his spine. Someone or something was out there in the dark. It or they were very near, maybe even already in the city and Tony dropped his gear and began looking in all directions. All he saw was his own group, fallen relics and darkness. Then, he saw it. The Egyptian mercenary's body fell with a thud not twenty feet away, his throat slit, blood spilling from the wound. And behind him stood a Medjai warrior, his scimitar dripping with the blood of his kill.  
  
Slowly, as if fearing nothing, the warrior moved closer. Tony stood still, possessing no weapon and not planning on using one if he had possessed one to begin with. He had nothing to fear from these men, they were his sister's friends and he trusted in their skill to stop Oscar and Victor more than he trusted in his own ability.  
  
****  
  
One man was dead and Ardeth was certain his men were moving in on the rest that were scattered around Hamunaptra, gathering their supplies and oblivious to what fate was coming. Another man stood nearby and as Ardeth approached him the man made no move to escape. He also made no move for a weapon and Ardeth wondered why. When Ardeth was close enough to see the man's eyes, he was struck with two realizations. First, this man showed no fear and second, his piercing blue eyes were the same as the woman's they'd rescued. Perhaps he was her brother, the one he had said he could not guarantee his safety. Then again, he could be merely one of the members of the group the Mejdai had to defeat.  
  
With that thought forcing him to act, Ardeth raised his scimitar, ready to attack. The man continued to stand there and Ardeth was certain it would be an easy kill.  
  
****  
  
The Medjai's face was covered by a black veil, but Tony knew those eyes- eyes that he was shocked to see since they were supposed to have traveled back in time a good 70 years. They were the same one's that had looked upon him with trust when he had pretended to shoot Ali, but they weren't supposed to be for that man had existed back in 2001 and not in 1930. But Tony could not explain what he was seeing, so it was obvious the Fortress of Aten had not worked and Tony was relived for this was his sister's fiancé, Ali, who was standing before him and Tony had nothing to fear.  
  
"Ali," Tony said in an urgent whisper. "Its me, Rose's brother, Tony."  
  
The man hesitated and he looked back with confusion in his eyes.  
  
"You have to help me stop these guys. They're completely insane," Tony continued, ignoring the man's strange stare and hoping he'd listen before that blood-tipped sword came down on top of him.  
  
"I have to kill you, yes, but I do not have to help you do anything," the warrior answered in a low growl that frightened Tony more than he'd ever been frightened in his life. That sword was still poised to strike and Tony was certain this man was not Ali after all. If that was the case, then it meant the Fortress of Aten had indeed worked and they were facing the Medjai of the 1930's and therefore this warrior who resembled Ali so much had no idea who Tony was.  
  
****  
  
Thank goodness she had defied Ardeth's orders and come back to Hamunaptra, for her brother was a second away from meeting with a scimitar. Tony was standing completely still, looking totally at ease and obviously had no idea he was in trouble. Ardeth Bay was a stubborn, headstrong man, much like his grandson, but amplified by ten. And he obviously was dead set on killing everyone in the ruined city, her brother included.  
  
"Ardeth, no!" Rose shouted as Hammad ran the horse they were riding straight for the two men.  
  
Ardeth halted his movements toward Tony and looked back over his shoulder at the horse bearing down upon him. Rose could see the furious look in his dark eyes.  
  
"Don't hurt my brother," Rose demanded as Hammad pulled the horse up right next to the warrior.  
  
Ardeth lowered his sword and opened his mouth to speak when a sinister voice announced from behind, "Not so fast, Medjai."  
  
It was Victor and he had an automatic rifle in his hands, trained at Ardeth's back.  
  
"You've taken my Rosa away three times now. I'm not about to let you get away with it again," Victor said.  
  
As Rose's eyes settled on the gun in Victor's hands she was met with a startling realization. If anything happened to Ardeth, history would be changed and Ali would not be waiting for her in 2001.  
  
"No, Victor," Rose said in a firm voice as she pulled the handgun she'd taken from him earlier and aimed it at him.  
  
Apparently startled by her bold move, Victor failed to use his own weapon for protection. Instead, he turned and ducked out of the way, just as Rose pulled back on the trigger and the bullet only grazed his arm.  
  
But it was enough of a deterrent for Ardeth to move out of the line of fire. He said nothing to her, only glowered at her furiously and then turned and kicked the rifle out of Victor's hands. He raised his scimitar, ready to strike Victor, when a burst of gunfire erupted around them.  
  
Turning from Victor, Ardeth yanked Rose and Hammad off the horse and dragged them to the safety of a fallen pillar. Another Medjai joined them, and Rose saw a few more robed warriors duck behind other structures for cover.  
  
The rapid succession of automatic gunfire continued for another minute or two and all the Medjai maintained their cover. Then, suddenly it stopped and the muffled sounds of horse hooves in the sand reached her ears. She quickly understood what that meant-Victor and the rest of the men were escaping.  
  
****  
  
As soon as Ardeth sensed it was safe, he was on his feet and racing toward the one Medjai horse within Hamunaptra. Hammad's horse was older and not nearly as fast as Ardeth's young stallion, but right now, the other horses were a good half-mile run in the dunes and he hadn't the time to fetch them. The dangerous men from the future were escaping and if that blasted woman hadn't interfered, those men would have been dead by now. Her appearance, however, had confused his concentration and now five of the men he had to stop were loose in the desert.  
  
****  
  
Rose instinctively ran after Ardeth. Wherever he went, she would go. She had to keep her eye on him now, for his safety was paramount to her future with Ali.  
  
He grabbed Hammad's bay horse and began to mount when he halted long enough to pick up a discarded rifle from the ground. It was the automatic rifle Victor had dropped and Ardeth's pause gave Rose just enough time to reach him as he placed his foot in the stirrup.  
  
"Hold on," she demanded. "I'm coming too."  
  
"Stay," he ordered as he mounted, but she was already swinging herself onto the horse behind him. "You will only slow me down."  
  
"You're slowing yourself down by arguing with me, Ardeth," Rose insisted. "Now go."  
  
He said nothing more and kicked the horse into a gallop. Rose grabbed a hold of his waist and buried her face in his robes to lessen the sting of the night wind as they raced the Arabian at high speed across the sand. With her eyes closed and her mind devoid of thought, Rose was certain she was riding behind Ali. Every physical characteristic of this man reminded her of Ali. He looked like him, sounded like him and felt like him. The only hint that proved he was not Ali was his cold stare and his harsh words.  
  
His words, however, were not so harsh, only anxious as he slowed his mount atop a dune and announced, "They are at he Fortress of Aten."  
  
"Why would they go there?" Rose questioned, but knowing it meant they were more than likely trying to catapult into a safer time.  
  
"They are trying to escape us for good," Ardeth said urging the horse down the dune at a walk, its breathing labored from the exertion. "But they could not have been here long. They will not have time to set a new course. The fortress is complicated. They will only have time to reinsert the staff and go back to the exact time they came from give or take a few hours."  
  
It was relatively good news, Rose thought, except the fact that if Victor and his group went back to 2001 with the Staff of the Sun, she'd be left behind in 1930.  
  
"Ardeth, we have to stop them. Otherwise, I'll be stuck here with you," Rose said.  
  
At that, Ardeth kicked the horse into a gallop and they entered a deep and narrow ravine, closing in on the Fortress of Aten.  
  
****  
  
"There's no time for that, Oscar," Victor argued as they stood on the stone platform inside the Fortress of Aten. "Just put that damned staff in the hole and lets get the hell out of here."  
  
He was holding his arm, it was bleeding profusely from the bullet Rosa had shot at him. Damned woman! If it weren't so urgent for them to hightail it out of 1930 and get away from the very persistent Medjai of that era, he would have gone back and shot her dead himself. But leaving her in the year 1930 was almost punishment enough.  
  
There were only five of them left. Victor, Tony, Jean Danton, Jeffreys and of course Oscar Mann. Five wasn't enough to fight off the constant attacks from the Mejai and they had to get back to the year 2001, regroup and try again. Oscar, however, was intent on trying to find another time period to catapult to, but that took a good hour to rearrange all the stone tablets and pulleys and wooden pegs. Besides, all the instructions were written in hieroglyphics and only Jean could decipher them. And though the man was sneaky and conniving, he did not have the nerve to do it now. He was shaking and cowardly after the fire fights in Hamunaptra and so Oscar was certain he could figure it out for himself.  
  
"It will not take me long," Oscar declared. "Besides, the Medjai were without horses. How could they get here so quickly?"  
  
Victor jumped down off the stone "stage" as, he called it, and took the steps up to Oscar where he stood in front of an immense "control panel." It was as ancient as a control panel could be and the process was complicated. Certain pegs had to go in specific holes in the stone wall and then various pulleys attached to giant slabs of stone had to be raised or lowered according to the instructions written on the wall. Once all that was arranged, the final piece of the puzzle was the staff. It went in the hole in the floor just in the middle of the "stage" and created a strange warp that somehow allowed one to travel through time. If Oscar didn't finish, however, they would be traveling nowhere.  
  
"Look, Oscar, just stick the damned staff in the hole. Jean says that if we do that, it will automatically take us back to the exact point from which we came. We don't have time for you to fool around with this," Victor explained reasonably.  
  
Turning and looking upon Victor with a vicious scowl, Oscar spat, "We must make time. We must plan this just right. The world, Victor, is ours for the taking. We can't stop now."  
  
Victor saw the insanity that had entered Oscar's cold blue eyes and he stepped away from the man and said, "You're one hell of a crazy fool." He began to walk back to the platform to join the others that were standing patiently by, holding the horses they might need wherever it was they ended up, when two figures entered the fortress and changed their plans.  
  
****  
  
The Fortress of Aten was indeed an amazing sight. It was tucked away so deeply and so inconspicuously, that Rose wondered how anyone could find it. The outside of the fortress was a columned façade carved right into a cliff face. It was a grand sight and Rose paused a moment to look up at it.  
  
"We must hurry," Ardeth said to her and Rose pulled her eyes from the sight before her and followed him up the steps.  
  
There were only five steps that led to a small opening. It was no wonder Victor and his friends had only brought horses back with them. The fortress's entrance was not nearly large enough for vehicles or machinery. Horses, however, could fit through the entrance easily.  
  
The inside of the fortress was just as grand. There were large statues and hieroglyphics carved on the wall. Torches all around the walls were lit and the inside glowed with a soft golden light.  
  
Rose could hear voices as they entered, but because of the statues and columns at the entranceway, she and Ardeth could neither see or be seen.  
  
Ardeth motioned for Rose to follow him. They moved to the far wall, hidden behind a giant statue of what Rose assumed was a pharaoh-perhaps the pharaoh who had built this place. Ardeth held the automatic rifle in his hand that he had found on the ground and asked quietly, "How does this work?"  
  
"What? You've never shot a gun before?" she questioned him.  
  
He glared at her, something he was doing way too often, and replied, "I have shot a gun before. I have not shot a gun like this before."  
  
As quietly as possible, Rose released the magazine, checked for bullets, and reinserted it. Then, she switched the rifle off "automatic" and placed it on the "semi-automatic" setting.  
  
"It's on semi-automatic," Rose whispered to him. She paused as she noticed he was leaning distractingly close to her. Her instinct was to reach out, wrap her hand in his hair and kiss him. But though he looked like Ali, he wasn't, and she had to remind herself of that.  
  
"It'll fire only one bullet at a time," she explained. "I don't think there's many bullets left in the magazine, so be careful. And don't switch it to automatic." She pointed to the setting switch. "If you do that, you'll blow all your bullets in one shot."  
  
"I have handled a Thompson before," he declared to her, "I can surely handle this on automatic."  
  
"I'm sure you can, but let's just play it safe with the ammo."  
  
He nodded, took the gun and then asked, "Do you still have your gun?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good, we'll stay behind cover and shoot as many as we can," Ardeth explained.  
  
"Not my brother," Rose argued.  
  
Ardeth frowned at her again, then apparently seeing how determined she was to save Tony's life, he relented and nodded in agreement.  
  
"All right," Rose said. They began to move away from the wall, when Rose halted him with a hand to his arm. "One more thing, Ardeth. Don't get yourself killed. If anything happens to you, I'll lose my Ali." She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him furiously. Then she placed a quick kiss on his cheek and said, "I'm ready."  
  
Ardeth, surprisingly, hesitated and it took him a moment to follow her. However, as soon as he was by her side, they sneaked around the columns, ducked behind two small statues of animals and raised their guns.  
  
Their first shots were surprises to everyone in the group except Victor. It seemed to Rose that he had expected them. He was already behind cover by the time the firing started. Horses scattered, people were diving wildly as the bullets flew in both directions. Everyone from Victor's group was now covered except one man. Oscar Mann was standing upon a ledge that ran the length of a wall and merely raised his weapon and began firing back at Rose and Ardeth. He moved boldly forward, apparently not fearing the deadly bullets that were being shot his way. And for a moment, it appeared as if his plan would work. He seemed invincible as nothing hit him and he continued to walk forward, his gun blazing and his blue eyes gleaming sinisterly.  
  
Rose raised her gun to fire a round at him when nothing happened. The trigger wouldn't pull, her gun had jammed.  
  
"Damn it!" Rose muttered and ducked back behind the statue.  
  
"What is it?" Ardeth questioned as he too ducked down, looking over his rifle.  
  
"Gun jammed," Rose answered as she tried to pull back on the slide to clear the jammed round. Then she looked at Ardeth and saw he wasn't shooting either. "What's wrong with you?"  
  
"I think I am out of bullets," he confessed as he continued to stare at the rifle.  
  
"Great! Just great!" Rose muttered as she continued to pull on the slide, hoping to dislodge the jammed bullet before that evil man made it to them.  
  
Ardeth began to reach for her gun, obviously to assist her with the jam, when suddenly Oscar Mann's voice interjected from nearby, "I'm coming for you Medjai. You killed all my friends and I'm going to make certain you die too. And once you're dead, the world is mine."  
  
Ardeth handed the gun back to Rose and silently drew his scimitar. She knew she threw him a concerned look, for he shook his head at her as if to tell her not to worry and began to crawl toward the next statue. He was going to face Oscar, and Rose pulled on the slide of her gun more urgently, hoping to dislodge the jam before Ardeth had to do that.  
  
****  
  
It all happened quicker than Tony could process. Rose and her Medjai friend began shooting and everyone in Tony's group, minus himself and Jean Danton, fired back. Then Oscar Mann was bravely walking toward Rose and the Medjai and all firing stopped. Tony pulled a handgun out of the waist of his pants and began to aim for Oscar Mann. He wasn't about to allow the man to harm his sister. Rose had saved him tonight and he was going to save her.  
  
Tony, however, didn't have to shoot for the Medjai bravely sprung from behind a statue and attacked on Oscar's flank. Surprised and caught off guard, Oscar was unable to shift his weapon around for a counter-attack and the sharp blade of the Medjai's sword was stuck in his side before anyone could register what had happened.  
  
Oscar let out a loud hissing of breath and the Medjai smiled almost triumphantly at his fallen prey. He then swung his gaze toward the platform where everyone else was hiding and started to boldly move toward them.  
  
"To hell with this," Victor mumbled from a nearby hiding spot. "I'm not waiting around for him to try and kill the rest of us."  
  
Quickly, Victor dashed to the ledge in front of the fortress control panel and snatched the Staff of the Sun that was lying there. He then returned to the stone platform and said, "Everyone aboard!"  
  
Jefffreys, Jean and Tony emerged from their cover and gathered on the platform. With a smile of triumph down to the Medjai, Victor plugged the staff into the hole in the platform and that horrible pressure filled the room like it had the first time they'd used the Fortress of Aten. For Tony, it felt like he was diving down deep in the ocean and the pressure was pushing on his eardrums and squeezing his lungs like a vice. But the pressure only lasted until the bright light appeared in front of them and one by one they dashed through the opening in time until Victor, the last one, grabbed the Staff of the Sun and jumped through the opening just before it closed.  
  
****  
  
"No!" Rose screamed. Her cry echoed through the now empty chamber. "No!"  
  
She ran toward the stone platform the men had been on, bounded up the few stairs and past Ardeth. When she again realized they were gone along with the Staff of the Sun and her only way back home, she dropped to her knees and sobbed.  
  
Suddenly Ardeth's voice was very near her and he said, "Do not worry. They only escaped back to the time they left from. The Medjai of that era should be able to deal with them. See," he said and Rose couldn't see his gesture toward the large wall with the ledge that served as the control panel for the fortress, "they were unable to finish plotting their next destination. That means the fortress took them back to their original time."  
  
Rose continued to cry and realized Ardeth had no clue as to why she was upset. Wiping at her face and quieting her sobs, Rose explained, "I'm not upset about them. Heck, I could care less where Victor goes next. I'm upset, Ardeth, because I'm stuck here in 1930 and have no way to get back to Ali. What am I supposed to do?"  
  
She stood and faced him. He seemed at a loss for words.  
  
"I suppose you will have to remain here," he finally answered after a long silence.  
  
Rose began sobbing again and shook her head. She reached out and grabbed fistfuls of his robe in her hand and rested her forehead against his chest for comfort, though he offered none in return.  
  
"I can't stay here, damn it! I have to get back to 2001. I have to get back to your grandson. I love him. Don't you see that? I have to get back to him," Rose insisted weakly as she heard the voices of Ardeth's warriors calling to him as they entered the fortress.  
  
Ardeth called back to them in their native language and Rose heard the footsteps of their approach. Ardeth pried her hands from his robe and then placed his hands on her shoulders. With a firm voice he said, "You will survive in my time, Rose. It will not be so bad. You will see. Our people will take you in."  
  
It was the kindest thing he had said to her, but it gave her little comfort.  
  
"But can't you use this thing to send me back home?" Rose asked, finding a new spark of hope. "Doesn't the Staff of the Sun exist in this time period and you can get it and send me back?"  
  
Ardeth looked at her regretfully and his hands tightened upon her shoulders. "It does exist, but we do not know where exactly it is."  
  
Her last hope was dashed and she felt tears escaping once again as she fell forward and despite Ardeth's hesitancy to touch her, she hugged him fiercely and cried.  
  
**** 


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18  
  
They had arrived too late. Ali had known from the time his cousin had announced that five Medjai were dead at the fortress that they were too late. Despite his weakness from the injury and the pain it caused, Ali had driven out to the fortress himself to inspect the site. Indeed, five of his warriors, men under his command, were dead at the steps of the fortress.  
  
And Rose. Where was Rose? He had the men he'd brought search the fortress and the nearby area but they found nothing. Slowly, with Devraj at his side and Yasmeen at his other, they entered the fortress and looked upon the inscriptions on the wall that controlled the Fortress of Aten and Ali knew exactly where Rose was. She was in 1930.  
  
"Ali, they've returned to 1930," Yasmeen announced as she left his side and looked at the wall. All the Medjai knew how the fortress operated and it was obvious from reading the pegs and pulleys that Victor's group had warped back to 1930.  
  
"Yes," he acknowledged as he turned away from the wall.  
  
"I am sure Rose will be all right," Devraj said as Ali sat on the steps that led to the platform. "After all, her brother is with her and Ardeth will be in 1930. He will not allow that group to compromise history."  
  
"No, he will not," Ali agreed. "But still, we have failed, Dev. My first task as chief and I have failed it. I have lost my wife to be and have let the Medjai down."  
  
"You have let no one down," an ancient voice insisted.  
  
Hammad, cloaked in his dark robe, shuffled forward from the entranceway of the fortress. Ali was surprised to see him, for the old man had not ridden out with them. He wondered for a moment how Hammad had made his way to the fortress, then dismissed his thoughts for the old man had his ways of knowing everything and being everywhere when necessary.  
  
"I have, Hammad," Ali argued.  
  
"No. It was fate that these men escaped to the past with Rose. She was supposed to return to Ardeth's time. There is much you do not know, Ali, and much you must just trust will happen." The old man then glanced around the chamber, looked at the warriors dressed in their Medjai attire, then glanced at his watch. A faint smile played upon his lips as he announced, "Now is the time where you will prove yourself, my lord. This is where you will not fail your people."  
  
No sooner did his words end when a stifling pressure filled the fortress. Ali felt the pressure the worst in his ears and he'd heard the stories enough to know what that meant.  
  
"Take cover!" he ordered his warriors. "Someone is arriving."  
  
He ushered Hammad behind a statue and took cover next to the old man.  
  
"This is it, Ali," the man said excitedly. "You will make us proud."  
  
****  
  
Rose tossed and turned for the second night and hated the hard ground she had to sleep upon. She had been in the company of the Medjai for two days now, and she was positive she would never feel right in this era. There were no modern conveniences. She had to bathe in a river, eat at a campfire and sleep in a tent. They were large, white tents, however, but they were uncomfortable just the same.  
  
She had yet to lose the sadness that had filled her soul upon the realization that she was stuck in 1930 without her Ali. Though the Medjai seemed curious about her, she kept to herself only speaking to Ali's mother whom she shared a tent with. As for Ardeth, since the night they had met, he paid very little attention to her.  
  
It hurt her heart each time she saw him walking around the camp. He was Ali's twin and there were times when she actually thought she was back in 2001 and that it was Ali that was near and not Ardeth. But that fantasy lasted but a second when she would again scan her surroundings, the white tents nestled in a deep ravine, and realize just where she was.  
  
And tonight, for the second night, she was haunted with thoughts of her own time and raking her brain wondering just how she could return there.  
  
Then it hit her. She quickly sat up and realized that the Medjai must indeed have found that Staff of the Sun at one point in time. It was the only thing that made sense for Ali had mentioned to her that it had been stolen and used to kill his father. That meant, the Medjai had seen it! And maybe, if she was lucky, it was the Medjai of 1930 that had found it.  
  
She pulled her tennis shoes on and quietly exited the tent. She had to speak with Ardeth. She had to tell him what she suspected about the Staff of the Sun for it was her only hope to make it back to Ali.  
  
She sneaked across camp quietly. She knew where Ardeth's tent was for she had seen him enter it several times today. There was no one else about camp and the only sounds came from a few horses nickering nearby. A large silvery moon lit the way and she was able to make it to Ardeth's tent without causing any ruckus.  
  
Slowly, she pushed aside the tent flaps, not wanting startle him with her entrance. She walked a few steps and saw in the far left corner of the tent the form of a man sleeping. He was lying with his head upon a pillow and wore only loosely fitting black cotton pants. His long hair was strewn around the pillow and his dark eyes were shut.  
  
Rose continued toward him, then knelt beside him and reached a hand out to jostle his shoulder and wake him up. That was the plan anyhow. As soon as her hand made contact with his skin, however, Ardeth reached up, wrapped his hand around her throat, flipped her to her back and rolled on top of her. A small dagger was pressed to her neck and she felt its piercing prick before she could squeak out, "Ardeth, its me, Rose."  
  
His body was heavy and his grip like a vice. Slowly, he released her and pulled the blade from her throat.  
  
"If you know anything about the Medjai, woman, you should know better than to disturb a sleeping chief," he growled lowly.  
  
Rose felt the vibration of his voice in her own body and wondered just when he would release her from this precarious position.  
  
"Sorry," she finally answered. "But I have to tell you something."  
  
"And it could not wait until morning?" he questioned less harshly than his words had been to her only moments ago.  
  
"No, it couldn't," Rose insisted. Then she put her hands on his smooth, bare chest and asked, "Could you please get off me now?" as she pushed.  
  
He did as she asked and returned to his bed. Rose pushed to a sitting position touching the area on her neck he'd pressed the dagger against, feeling for signs of a cut. There was none and she breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"I hope you realize its inappropriate for you to enter my tent unescorted," Ardeth spoke up.  
  
"What do you mean, inappropriate?" she asked.  
  
"We are not married. It is inappropriate," he explained.  
  
"Oh, well I don't care. Where I come from, there's nothing wrong with this visit," Rose insisted.  
  
"Perhaps I care," Ardeth told her.  
  
"Fine, then I'll leave," she snapped as she began to stand.  
  
Ardeth's hand caught her arm and halted her progress.  
  
"Tell me what it is that is so important you had to disturb my sleep," he demanded with a quiet voice.  
  
Rose sat back down and leveled her gaze on his chest. He was as defined as Ali, and possessed several tattoos that Ali had never worn. She studied them for a moment, intrigued with their design, when his hand, which was also tattooed, reached out and pushed her chin up.  
  
"You came to talk, not to stare," he warned.  
  
"Sorry," she returned. "I was just wondering about those markings." She glanced at his face and hands, at the tattoos there, and added, "And I'm intrigued by the markings on your face and hands too."  
  
"You say you knew the Medjai in your time. If that is true, these markings should be of no surprise."  
  
Rose shook her head. "But they are. Ali's generation doesn't wear those markings on their faces or their hands. They have tattoos just like the ones on your face, but they wear them on their chest now. And those are the only markings they possess."  
  
"Why?" Ardeth inquired and Rose could see the shock in his face.  
  
"Because they have to blend in with modern society." Rose stopped and sighed. "There is so much about the future you should know. But I won't tell you unless you want to know. I wouldn't want to affect the course of history or anything."  
  
Ardeth was silent for a moment as he sat cross-legged in front of her. His eyes were scanning her face as if looking for some sign of the truth. Then they swung down to her hand and landed on the ring. With an almost imperceptible nod, Ardeth said, "You may tell me, for I have no plans on changing the course of history. But first, I want to know what it is that drove you to my tent at this hour."  
  
"Oh, the Staff of the Sun," Rose announced excitedly. "I have a feeling from all that I heard back in 2001 that the Medjai have seen the staff. You might have even possessed it at one time. If that's true, then I think we should go looking for it."  
  
"We have never possessed the Staff of the Sun," Ardeth told her.  
  
"Yeah, but I have a feeling you will. See, Ali knew an awful lot about it. He knew it was stolen by that man you killed at the fortress-Oscar Mann. He knew all about the powers of the staff."  
  
"No doubt because we pass such information down from chief to chief. Of course this Ali knew about it," Ardeth argued.  
  
"No, he didn't just know, it seemed as if he'd seen it before."  
  
"And he told you this?" Ardeth questioned.  
  
"No, he didn't. But in a round about way he did. He told me about the Fortress of Aten and how the staff was needed for it. He also said that staff could let one see things and that is was used for." She stopped her rambling explanation, for telling Ardeth that it had been used to assist in the assassination of his son was news she did not want to divulge.  
  
"It was used for what?" Ardeth questioned.  
  
"For nothing," Rose corrected just as Ardeth reached out and placed a large hand over her mouth.  
  
She was startled by his swift move. His hand felt warm and callused against her face. She reached up to pry this hand off her face when he placed a finger to his bearded lips indicating for her to be quiet.  
  
A male voice called quietly from the entrance of the tent.  
  
Rose had never heard the approaching footsteps, but was glad Ardeth had. He hitched a thumb over his shoulder, indicating she move behind him and she scurried quickly to his bed. The area he slept in was just as hard as her bed in his mother's tent. But she would worry about that later, because right now it was obvious he wanted her out of sight.  
  
Ardeth finally answered but Rose understood little for he spoke in his native tongue.  
  
It was hardly urgent news and Rose could tell by the way Ardeth remained casually seated in front of her, shielding her from view with his body.  
  
Ardeth returned some instructions and after a moment she heard the footsteps lead the man at the entrance of the tent away.  
  
"What was that about?" Rose asked.  
  
"Nothing too urgent. Just some news a caravan just sent of an archeological expedition that's rumored to be starting soon. We like to be warned in advance so we can keep watch over such expeditions that take place in the desert," he answered.  
  
"So you can make sure no ancient secrets are revealed, right?"  
  
"Right," he said.  
  
"And why did you hide me? Aren't you the chief around here? What's the big deal if you're caught with a woman in your tent?" Rose then asked, curious about the rules and regulations that guided these Medjai of a generation past.  
  
"I was protecting your reputation," he said. "It is of little consequence to my reputation for I am a man, but for a woman it is different."  
  
"I guess I keep forgetting I'm stuck in the land that time forgot. The norms are quite different where I come from."  
  
"I am beginning to think it is very different where you come from," Ardeth said. "Now, you had better return to my mother's tent. We will speak tomorrow."  
  
Ardeth had turned toward her and Rose realized she was practically cornered in his tent. They were awfully close, but she didn't feel uneasy.  
  
"What about the staff?" Rose questioned. "Can we look for it? Please."  
  
Ardeth took a deep breath and Rose watched as his chest rose and fell with the effort.  
  
"All right," he conceded. "We will begin a search. If for no other reason than to get you back to 2001 so I can get a decent night's rest."  
  
"Oh, thank you, Ardeth," Rose said quietly, but excitedly as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely. "I love you, I really, really love you. Thank you so much."  
  
She threw a sloppy kiss on his cheek, then jumped to her feet and carefully made her way back to her tent. Now that Ardeth had agreed to look for the Staff of the Sun, Rose felt that much closer to Ali.  
  
****  
  
Ardeth sighed with relief and fell back onto his bed when Rose left his tent. He had discovered something tonight that he hadn't wanted to discover and that was his growing desire for a woman who was supposed to marry his grandson.  
  
Could fate really be so cruel as to allow him to fall in love with a woman who was destined for someone else? Could destiny play such an awful trick?  
  
He had not wanted to be attracted to her when she had first kissed him two nights ago, thinking he was someone else. He had certainly tried to deny any feelings of pain or sympathy for her when she had clung to him, sobbing, in the Fortress of Aten. And he had forced himself to behave like a gentleman when she had surprised him in his tent tonight. But after those last words from her, spoken obviously only out of joy over the possibility of returning to her Ali, his grandson, Ardeth was realizing he had no choice but to admit he was in a very, very bad position.  
  
It had been years since he'd been intrigued by a woman. There were certainly several among the tribe who would marry him with only a question from his lips. Yet they had never intrigued him, never challenged him. The elder council members of the tribe had also been begging him to marry since he'd turned twenty and taken over the reins as chief. But he had rebuffed every one of their attempts at matrimony. Then suddenly, a woman from the future, a woman who could never be his, catches his eye and Ardeth was ready to curse the heavens for the cruel, cruel trick that was being played on him.  
  
****  
  
Ardeth appeared the next morning after Rose had eaten in the tent and readied herself for the day. He was a bold presence in the tent and his mother, Hana, greeted him with a kiss to the cheek and a few words in their native Arabic.  
  
Rose stood as he returned words to his mother then turned her way. In his hands, he carried a dark robe and he tossed it at her and instructed, "Put this on. There is also a covering for your head. My mother will assist you. Meet me outside in five minutes. We have some places to go and you cannot look like an outsider when we leave camp."  
  
He turned and exited without awaiting Rose's answer.  
  
"Is he always so blunt?" Rose questioned his mother.  
  
"Always," she said with a shrug and then approached Rose and took the garment from her. "Let me help you get dressed."  
  
As Hana assisted Rose with the robe, she remarked surprisingly, "My son is dressing you like a man. This will never do."  
  
"Actually, I think it will do just fine," Rose insisted as she glanced over Hana's long, cumbersome skirt and long-sleeved top. "At least I can wear this robe over my normal clothes. I wouldn't be comfortable in your skirts especially if Ardeth is taking me on an excursion."  
  
Hana sighed. "I suppose you are right."  
  
Her English was impeccable, and Rose had learned from her stay that this generation of Medjai also knew English along with several other languages. It had been explained to her that English had been brought to the Medjai in the 1800s when the British had run Egypt as a protectorate. It had come in handy knowing the language and the Mejdai had been sure to teach it to each succeeding generation. And Rose was especially thankful for the English for it meant she could communicate easily with Hana and any of the others she may run across.  
  
"But a beautiful woman like yourself, should not be dressed as a man," Hana continued. "It is not right. As it is, your native clothes adorn you like a man's, and yet, they are very different than any I have seen."  
  
"You mean these old jeans and tennis shoes?" Rose questioned back as she pulled the hem of the over-robe up to show Hana. "You'll see that this is quite common attire in the future. Everyone wears tennis shoes and blue jeans."  
  
Hana chuckled. "Your time sounds very unusual. And the fact that you are even from the future still boggles my mind. I have grown up hearing the myths of the Fortress of Aten, but never before has it been used. It is strange to see it is real."  
  
The aging woman who's beauty was still quiet evident in her finely structured brow and cheeks, smiled brilliantly at Rose and then finished with a final tuck of the veil over her face. Only Rose's eyes showed and she felt uncomfortable in the attire and mentioned so.  
  
"You will be thankful once the heat of the desert and the sun is at full force. You do not want to bare your skin to those elements," Hana insisted. "Now, hurry along before my impatient son comes looking."  
  
Rose remembered her sweatshirt and gun and grabbed them before she left with a "good-bye" for Hana in her wake. She found Ardeth in the middle of the camp atop his black steed. Little Hammad was also mounted on his horse and held a gray Arabian by the reins for Rose. The horses were not only saddled but also carried bedrolls and as Rose stopped next to Ardeth's horse, she asked, "Are we going to be gone for a long time?"  
  
"Until we find the Staff of the Sun," Ardeth announced. "But do not worry so, I have brought Hammad as a chaperone. I could spare no other warriors."  
  
His words were light and he laughed at her. It was the first time he had chuckled and Rose discovered that he sounded exactly like Ali and again she felt homesick.  
  
Hammad handed off the reins of her horse and asked, "Do you know how to ride, Rose?"  
  
"I can ride just fine," she told him.  
  
The boy smiled at her, his veil down, and as Rose attempted to mount and caught the long robe in her stirrup and practically fell in the process, Ardeth laughed again.  
  
"I thought you said you could ride?" he taunted.  
  
Rose turned and glared up at him. "I can. Probably better than you," she snapped.  
  
"Is that so?" he returned and his face had lost all humor at the challenge. Rose was sorry she had challenged him with her words for he seemed to be a man who did not take such a challenge to his ego as easily as Ali would have.  
  
Unable to back down, however, Rose said, "Yes, that's so." She yanked the hem of her robe to the side and mounted with little incident and then stared hard at Ardeth.  
  
"If that is what you believe, perhaps we shall test your horsemanship skills in the desert," he said to her before he kicked his horse into a gallop and raced out of camp. Rose and Hammad followed.  
  
****  
  
Of course Rose was an excellent rider. However, the intense heat of the Sahara and the long, bulky robes made the ride difficult and uncomfortable. They ran their horses for much of the morning and when the sun was high and hot in the afternoon sky, they rested in the shade of a ravine and then walked the horses until the sun dipped low. As the sun began to set, they again ran and just as darkness was upon them, they stopped in a deeply carved ravine.  
  
"There is a cave where we will stop for the night," Ardeth announced. "We must start our journey here."  
  
Rose glanced around the surroundings and then asked, "Is this where the Cave of Prophecies is located?"  
  
Ardeth looked at her with some surprise and answered, "Yes."  
  
"I told you I've been here before," Rose remarked after seeing his surprise.  
  
Ardeth nodded and agreed, "You did. But now I see you were not lying."  
  
"Lying? You didn't believe me when I told you that a few days ago?"  
  
"I did not know what to believe," he stated as he looked away.  
  
"Yeah, I suppose it isn't everyday you get some woman claiming to be from the year 2001," she said lightly.  
  
Ardeth didn't answer her, instead he said, "We must dismount. This is the entrance to the cave."  
  
They led the three horses into the first large chamber of the cave and dismounted. Ardeth took the bedrolls from the three horses and instructed Hammad to feed and water the horses while he led Rose through the narrow entrance to the interior of the Cave of Prophecies.  
  
It was just as he had remembered it from the time she and Ali had ventured in. The only difference was, there were a few less names on the wall and her picture was missing.  
  
Ardeth dropped the bedrolls on the dirt floor and lit a torch. Rose moved to the far wall and touched where Ali's name and her picture had been.  
  
"You need to eat, Rose, and get some rest. We have an early start in the morning," Ardeth called to her across the cave.  
  
"Not yet," she returned. "This wall." she began to explain when Ardeth's presence next to her caused her to startle.  
  
He'd been on the other side of the cave and then suddenly beside her. His movements were swift and silent, like Ali's had always been.  
  
"Do all you Bays possess such stealth? Ali always sneaked up on me too," Rose said, a little breathless from the scare.  
  
"Ali? My grandson?" Ardeth asked with some disbelief.  
  
"Yes. Why is it that you don't entirely believe me?" Rose inquired. She pointed to the wall. "Right here was the name of your son, Aarif, your grandson, Ali and his son, Adan. And here," she placed her finger on the spot her picture had been, "there was a picture of me."  
  
Ardeth regarded her for a long moment and Rose could read nothing in his dark eyes. Then hesitantly, he asked, "Tell me of this Ali you speak so fondly of."  
  
Rose smiled wistfully and said, "He is a man I can love him with all my heart." She looked again at Ardeth's face, so much like Ali's and then touched his cheek and added, "He is very much like you."  
  
****  
  
Ardeth gritted his teeth and nonchalantly turned away from her touch. He didn't need her touching him or looking upon him lovingly as if she was seeing her Ali through him. He'd brought Hammad along as a buffer and he prayed the boy returned from taking care of the horses soon. For if he didn't, Ardeth wasn't sure he would continue to act appropriately with this woman who was causing his emotions to run rampant.  
  
"Is he a brave warrior?" Ardeth questioned walking away.  
  
"Yes," Rose answered.  
  
"He leads his men well?"  
  
"I guess so. He just took over as chief."  
  
Ardeth halted his retreat and turned back toward Rose. "He did? And what of his father.my son?"  
  
"Look, Ardeth, I don't think we should be talking about these things," Rose said, and Ardeth wondered why she avoided his inquiry when she seemed like a woman who avoided nothing.  
  
"I think we should. I need to know the course of my family's life. It is only right," he declared.  
  
"I don't know everything. See, Ali and I were friends for a very long time in America before I knew anything about the Medjai. In fact, I only found out he was the leader of the Medjai the night I was kidnapped and brought here to 1930."  
  
"Really?" Ardeth asked, shocked by her explanation. How could she have not known about the Medjai and what had his grandson been doing in America?  
  
"Yes. I was very angry with Ali when I found out. He'd hidden it from me and I felt betrayed. In the future, the Medjai don't tell anyone who they are. They're very secretive because the world is so very different. There's technology beyond your imagination, Ardeth. Satellites in space can take pictures of individual people, pictures can be emailed and faxed from one continent to another in a matter of seconds and a group like the Mejai could be seen as a threat to some people if they broadcasted their existence for all to see. So they keep a low profile, send people out into the world to do important jobs and help gather information about any groups who might be looking to unleash any of Egypt's secrets."  
  
"Satellites? Faxes? What are these things you speak of?" Ardeth questioned slowly, stunned by the revelations Rose had just laid upon him.  
  
"You must already be able to see how the world has changed just in your life-time," Rose prodded.  
  
"Yes. I have seen many changes. They have been coming for many years. We saw the machine guns and planes of World War I and now the cars that are driven on the streets of Cairo are a sight to behold," he admitted.  
  
"And the cars of the future are three times as fast and everyone in America owns at least two," Rose told him. "And if you think World War I was something, just wait. In ten years, the armies of the world will fight again. It will be the bloodiest of wars and North Africa will see its share. You need to be sure to keep your tribe safe during this war, Ardeth. The German Panzers, their mighty tanks, are going to capture much of North Africa. It will be a horrible war, and it will end with the most treacherous of bombs being dropped by the Americans."  
  
A sadness settled over Rose's face and Ardeth moved near her, wanting to hear more of this future that awaited the world.  
  
"What bomb?" he asked.  
  
"An atomic bomb," she said quietly. "It has the power to disintegrate an entire city in one second. But only two were ever dropped in warfare and I hope we'll never see it again."  
  
"Did you witness it?" he questioned.  
  
Rose chuckled. "Heaven's no! It happens in 1945. I wasn't born until the 1970s. But I've seen video footage of it."  
  
"Video footage?" Her words were confusing Ardeth. He could barely keep up with all her stories. He was trying to image what was to come, but he cold hardly process it quickly enough.  
  
"Like a film. You've seen one, haven't you?" she questioned.  
  
He nodded and confessed, "I once saw a moving picture in Cairo when I was younger."  
  
"A video is very similar. The technology is just more advanced," Rose explained simply.  
  
Ardeth said nothing more to her and merely stood still, thinking about all she had said, his thoughts distracted from her and focused on history. Finally, after several long moments, Hammad entered the cave and announced he was hungry.  
  
They lit a fire in the small fire pit and ate the dried meat and dates they had stored away. It was a small dinner, yet Ardeth was barely hungry after imaging the world that was to come. It sounded like a complicated place and he suddenly felt daunted by the role that awaited him as chief.  
  
In fact, he continued to lie on the floor of the cave quietly as the other two slept, staring at the last of the fire's flames dancing off the ceiling and he wondering just what would come of the Medjai in the future. **** 


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19  
  
Though the cave was cold and damp, Rose was able to sleep much better in it than she had in the Medjai camp. She realized the reason she could sleep here was because it reminded her of the night she'd spent here with Ali. Of course, during that time, she had been clueless to his true identity and had pretty much despised him.  
  
Okay, perhaps "despise" wasn't the correct term. There had been an attraction that she'd felt and though she had hated being held against her will, she had to admit that the Medjai warrior side of Ali had drawn her in. There was just something about a mysterious warrior in black that fulfilled her fantasies, yet she was glad that she had realized her love for Ali before she'd discovered he was the Medjai chief for it would have always had her wondering if her love was real and true.  
  
But her love was real and true, and if she could relive that fateful night over again, she would have remained in Iman's house and listened to Ali's explanation with more calm and forgiven him. Those guilty thoughts disturbed her sleep and once again she found herself awake in the middle of the night.  
  
She pushed to a seated position and tried to untangle the hem of the robe that constantly tangled in her legs. When it refused to cooperate with her in the dimly lit cave, Rose yanked it off and threw it in a bundle on her bedroll. She raked a hasty hand through her hair that needed a good conditioning and blow-dry and sighed in frustration.  
  
"You are awake?" Ardeth's deep voice asked from somwhere in the cave and Rose wondered if her sigh had been that loud to awaken him.  
  
"Ardeth? Did I disturb you?" she asked back.  
  
He appeared from the far end of the cave, carrying the torch, and answered, "No. I have been awake for a long while."  
  
Before Rose could ask why he hadn't been sleeping, for it was obvious little Hammad was snoring away nearby, he held out his hand and insisted quietly, "Come with me."  
  
Rose didn't ask where he was taking her or why he wanted her company as he held her hand and led her down a narrow passage at the back of the cave. She had not noticed it before when she'd been in the cave with Ali and wondered where it led. She had thought this was the extent of the cave, but the narrow path was leading them deeper into the earth. The longer they traveled, the colder it got and Rose was sorry she had left the robe behind.  
  
The path finally opened into another chamber. This earthen room was enchanting. Stalactites and stalagmites adorned the roof and the floor of the cave and in the middle of the chamber was a shimmering pool of water. Ardeth's torch caused the pool to reflect its golden glow and it took a moment for Rose to pull her eyes from the water and see that the walls were also decorated as in the first chamber.  
  
She released Ardeth's hand upon this discovery and moved toward one of the walls. Upon closer examination, she found that these walls were written upon in small, consecutive letters. It looked like the prose read like a book and there were no lists, no pictures, no intricate artistic designs like in the outer chamber.  
  
"What is all this?" Rose questioned Ardeth as she gestured toward the wall.  
  
Ardeth carefully put the torch in a holder on the wall and answered, "This is where the ancient history of our tribe is written."  
  
Drawing sarcastically, Rose said, "You'll find that in the future, there are more efficient ways to store information."  
  
"Yes," he agreed, "as there are today."  
  
He moved a giant rock and revealed a deep hole in the wall of the cave. Reaching inside, he removed several hard cover journals.  
  
"Two centuries ago, our tribe copied the information into these books. We leave them here for safekeeping. There is too much danger of our secrets being revealed if we left these in camp. Only certain Medjai even know of this cave and certainly none of our enemies. And," he added as he opened one of the heavy journals and held it toward Rose, "it is written in an ancient form of Arabic. Few in the world can even read it."  
  
He gestured as if Rose should take the book and she obliged him.  
  
"Interesting," she said, "but I can't make out a word of it."  
  
"You will, one day," he said. "The wife of every Medjai chief must learn the ancient language-learn how to read and write it-so she can pass it down to her sons and daughters."  
  
"Well, that'll be a good trick, seeing how I'm horrible at languages. My father tried unsuccessfully to teach me Italian. Can't even speak a word of it today except for 'hello' and 'good-bye.' Besides, if I never make it back to 2001, I won't be a Medjai chief's wife," she insisted.  
  
Ardeth stared at her with an utterly strange look upon his face, then reclaimed the book from her hands and said, "In these books is written the possible location of the Staff of the Sun. All the secrets that we protect are written in here. I have been in here reading for the past few hours and I think I know where we must start in our quest for the staff."  
  
"Where?" Rose questioned.  
  
"Cairo," he answered. "We need to start at the museum there. A fellow Medjai, a very trusted Medjai, works there. He will allow us into the catacombs beneath the museum that holds the key that will unlock the tomb where the staff is supposedly buried."  
  
"Tombs?" Rose gave a fake shiver. "Scary."  
  
"Not entirely so. Everyone there is dead.or mostly dead," he said with the smallest hint of humor.  
  
"Quit teasing me. You know, Ali constantly taunted me too," Rose declared. "What is it with you Bay men? You're arrogant, taunting and too handsome for your own good."  
  
Instead of laughing at her light quip, Ardeth again stared at her with the weirdest of expressions, then turned and replaced the journals in their hiding spot. He was looking at her as if she were an alien from outer space. Granted, her stories about the future were more than likely absurd to him, but they certainly didn't warrant such a hard, unexplainable glare. Rose wanted to know what it was about her that was creating such a look so as he moved to the far wall to gather the torch, Rose moved toward him.  
  
"Ardeth, what was that look for?" Rose asked, placing a hand on his arm to halt his movement toward the torch.  
  
He turned his head and again stared at her with that "look" and pulled his arm back as if she'd burned him.  
  
"What look?" he inquired, taking a step back.  
  
"You're staring at me like I'm from outer space," she insisted.  
  
He gave a short laugh that sounded incredibly forced and asked lightly, "Are you going to tell me that in the future the world meets people from outer space too?"  
  
"No. But we can travel in space and land on the moon," she told him seriously. "And I realize you probably think me crazy for all the things I've told you. I don't exactly blame you for looking at me like I'm some freak of nature, but its making me uncomfortable."  
  
He sighed and looked upon her with apology.  
  
"I am sorry, Rose. It was my intention to not make you feel uncomfortable," he confessed. "I have failed in that, but I am afraid I do not know how to act any differently."  
  
Rose wrinkled her brow and stared at him as if he were the oddity.  
  
"I don't follow you," she said slowly.  
  
He shook his head and said, "It is nothing, Rose. I have been in this room reading for too many hours in the journals. There is news in there that I did not enjoy reading and I am afraid it has affected me."  
  
"Bad news?" she asked worriedly. "Does something happen to Ali or to you? Or to me? What is it?"  
  
He gave her a short smile and she realized his smiles never lasted as long as Ali's. Ardeth looked like a man who was carrying too many burdens on his shoulders and he gently placed a hand on her arm and answered, "It is nothing that should concern you, my dear. The history and prophecies in these journals just made something very clear for me." Then ever so carefully and ever so shockingly, he moved his hand to her cheek then removed it before Rose could even register the touch.  
  
Ardeth grabbed the torch and ordered quietly, "We should return to the other chamber." He led her away. ****  
  
Ardeth had already known that destiny had certain designs for Rose. He had known it the first moment he'd laid eyes upon her Medjai ring and it had been reiterated in the Medjai history that was written quite plainly. She was to be the woman who brings the ideas to Ardeth for the future of the tribe, but she was not to be the woman who helped him realize that future at his side. She belonged to his grandson and as much as he knew that the future was already written in the stars, he was finding it very difficult to accept in his heart. ****  
  
When the first man stepped through the light, Ali was not surprised to see it was Rose's brother. Jeffreys was next, then another, older man. Victor was the last one through and in his hand was the Staff of the Sun. What Ali was surprised by, however, was that there was no Rose. She was not with the group and he feared what that meant.  
  
In fact, his fear was so paralyzing, thinking that he'd never see his Rose again, that Ali failed to move. Devraj was out from behind cover first, gun aimed and running toward the men before Ali even made an effort to leave his cover. Once the realization that Devraj was acting hit Ali, he too charged forward. They had to disarm Victor and his group and get the Staff of the Sun before they recovered from their trip through time.  
  
It took a moment for Victor and his group to even notice the Medjai, Ali realized. They were all looking around their surroundings as if in a fog and Ali knew now was the time to act for the effect would be gone in a matter of seconds.  
  
Two men raised their weapons first, apparently cognizant of their surroundings, and fired at the rushing Medjai. Ali and Devraj fired back. One man, an older man, was hit and fell to the hard stone floor. Jeffreys rushed at Devraj and the men tumbled to the floor as well, struggling for dominance. Victor lunged for the hole in the ground where the Staff of the Sun went. He plunged it into the hole at the same time Tony dove at him and grasped his own hand on the shaft, fighting to pull the staff away. The telltale pressure filled the fortress interior. The light emerged and Victor and Tony continued to struggle with one another until Ali arrived and reached for the staff. Suddenly, the light disappeared. ****  
  
"Get up," a voice demanded, and Rose forced her eyes open.  
  
Her surroundings were still dim, so she wondered why it was time to awaken.  
  
"We must leave soon. Cairo is 2 days ride from here," the voice spoke again and Rose realized that voice belonged to Ardeth. His stare was hard and he frowned at her as if she he again angered him.  
  
She yawned, stretched and then quipped, "My aren't you cheery in the morning."  
  
He frowned deeper and returned, "Are all people so sarcastic in your time?"  
  
Rose sat and shrugged. "Maybe its just you Ardeth. Maybe you just bring out the sarcasm in me."  
  
He shook his head, quipped, "Enough sarcasm, woman," and turned away. Rose decided it best to ignore his tantrum for it was easier than trying to constantly argue with him. His moods changed quickly and she wondered why, for last night he had been so attentive and agreeable and this morning he was a bear. She would never mention so to him, however, for Ardeth was not as understanding a man as Ali.  
  
Instead of arguing, Rose found herself some food and sat on her bedroll eating. She stared at the far wall that had contained an opening the night before. It was where Ardeth had taken her to show her the secret manuscripts and writings of his tribe. That opening, however, was now gone and she suddenly wondered if last night had been a dream. Rose turned to ask Ardeth, but found him gone. Hammad, however, was sitting in front of the opposite wall of the cave his attention focused on a project in front of him.  
  
"Hammad?" Rose inquired.  
  
The boy turned her way and smiled.  
  
"What happened to the opening at the end of this chamber?" she asked.  
  
"It is now gone," he answered simply. "The secret to opening it is something I cannot reveal."  
  
"Secret cave openings, ancient transcripts.what else?" Rose mumbled more to herself than for her young audience. But apparently having heard her words, Hammad smiled wider and scooted back from the cave wall.  
  
"This," he told her and pointed to a newly painted portrait and list of names.  
  
That's when Rose saw the paintbrush in Hammad's hand.  
  
"It came to me in a dream last night," he continued as Rose stood and rushed to the wall.  
  
There upon the wall was the same words and image that Ali had shown her in 2001. It was that portrait of a woman with ice blue eyes that Rose had insisted could not be her. And next to it was three freshly painted names and though she could not read them, she knew what they said.  
  
"Hammad, how did you know?" Rose questioned as she studied the picture closely.  
  
"I just know," he returned. "When I was born, the tribe knew I had a gift. I can see things in my dreams. This I saw. See, I have drawn you."  
  
Rose nodded in agreement. "Yes, you certainly have." She realized then that portrait was indeed of her.  
  
The boy continued as he pointed to the wall. "Aarif Bay will be Ardeth's son, Ali will be his and Adan will be yours. You will be Ali's wife. And you carry his child even now."  
  
"What?" Rose asked her mind reeling with his revelation.  
  
The boy didn't answer her, however, and merely continued on. "And Ardeth, he knows this too. He knows you will marry Ali and bear his great grandson." Hammad gathered his things then stood. Looking down at Rose, he added cryptically, "He does not mean to be sharp with you. He will find his own love one day. His time has not yet come."  
  
Hammad left the cave without looking back at Rose and she was glad for the boy would have seen her gasping for air. She was as shocked as could be by his revelations about the future and especially about she and Ali's baby. Did this boy really have a gift?  
  
Rose gently touched her stomach and felt panic for a brief moment. If it was true and Hammad could see these things, then it was even more important she get back to Ali. If she was carrying his son, she could not stay here. ****  
  
Where was he? Ali lay on his back, staring at a stone ceiling. It was a high ceiling in a large room, but he still could not quite grasp his surroundings.  
  
Then he heard the voices. There were two voices. Men's voices. They were arguing. Ali couldn't figure out why they were arguing and it was another moment before he felt the contact and realized just what had happened.  
  
His mind grasped everything in that instant as Victor and Tony rolled into him. They were fighting for the Staff of the Sun and before Ali could respond, Victor kicked Tony off of him, grabbed the staff and stood.  
  
"Looks like I'm going home fellas," Victor shouted in triumph as he raised the staff over his head, ready to plunge it into the hole in the floor.  
  
Ali reacted quickly then. Still on his back he drew his sword and swung it at Victor. He sliced across the man's chest. It was not a death blow, but it halted Victor in his actions and the staff fell from his grasp. Victor and Ali both lunged for the staff, but Victor recovered it. Bleeding, haggard and breathing hard, Victor stood with the staff again and held it in front of him. Ali jumped to his feet.  
  
"One more step, Medjai, and I snap this in two," Victor threatened. "Then you'll be stuck back here in 1930 forever along with that no good girlfriend of yours."  
  
At hearing Victor refer to Rose, he hung back, sword poised to strike, and asked, "Where is Rose?"  
  
"Hopefully dead," he growled.  
  
Ali cocked his arm back, angered, hurt and frustrated by Victor's words, and was ready to strike when Tony said, "Don't Ali. He'll break that staff in half before you kill him. I know he will."  
  
Tony's announcement couldn't have come at a worse time, for Ali's pause gave Victor the opportunity to swing the staff like a club. Ali tried to duck and turn away, but the staff still connected with his shoulder, hitting his bullet wound squarely. A rush of pain like never before surged through Ali's body and he cried out in an angry howl.  
  
"Like that?" Victor asked as he raised the staff for another blow.  
  
"Victor, no!" Tony shouted and jumped in the way, knocking the staff from Victor's hands. The relic scattered across the stone platform and tumbled down the steps. An audible crash was heard and Ali feared the worse.  
  
"Hell, Tony," Victor chastised. "What did you go and do that for? You should have let me finish him off."  
  
Ali then pushed to his feet despite the weakness caused by the bullet wound, the loss of blood and the recent blow from Victor and wielded his sword. With little ceremony and no negotiations, he stabbed Victor in the chest. The man's dark eyes opened wide with shock and Ali never once looked away from his dying gaze.  
  
"That's for Rose," Ali growled. "You'll never hurt her again."  
  
It was a long, painful death, and Ali relished every moment the man suffered. But just as he was about to take his last breath, a small, evil smile played about his lips as if he was sorry for nothing he had done.  
  
"See you in hell, Medjai," he said with the last of his air as he held up the Medjai charm he'd stolen. "And Rose too."  
  
Victor's body slumped to the stone floor and Ali wiped the blood from his sword on the man's shirt and reclaimed his necklace. The Fortress of Aten was now safe. All he had to do was find Rose and return to their time.  
  
"Tony, he is dead. Let's find Rose and get home," Ali announced, sheathing his sword.  
  
Tony turned away from the ledge of the platform and frowned. His face, so much like Rose's, was lined with worry.  
  
"I don't think we can do that, Ali," Tony said. "The staff is broken."  
  
Not only was the Staff of the Sun inoperable, but little did Tony and Ali know that they had just missed Rose and the Medjai by a few hours. ****  
  
Devraj and the rest of the warriors had secured Jeffreys and the wounded Jean Danton. It was then that Hammad and Yasmeen made their way out from behind their cover. Yasmeen immediately ran to Devraj, checking on the minor injuries he had acquired in the fight with Jeffreys while Hammad took his time and looked carefully around the fortress.  
  
"Where is Ali?" he finally asked, after his inspection of the chamber was through.  
  
"I am afraid he was throw back in time with the other men," a worried warrior answered from the stone platform.  
  
Hammad frowned and quickly found himself a seat on the steps of the platform. He was visibly shaken and Yasmeen left Devraj's side to inquire of his health.  
  
"No, I am fine, my child," he insisted to Yasmeen. "But, I am afraid we have changed the course of history for Ali was not supposed to return to 1930."  
  
"What?" Yasmeen asked and upon hearing Hammad's confession, Devraj hurried to kneel in front of the sitting old man.  
  
"How do you know this, Hammad?" Devraj asked respectfully.  
  
"It is not written in the Medjai history. That is how I know it. I have never seen it in a vision and have never heard of it being told in our stories. It just wasn't supposed to happen," the old man said.  
  
"Our path is not entirely written for us, Hammad," Yasmeen argued. "We do have free will and self-determination. What is written for us is to guide the Medjai, not to rule our every action."  
  
Devraj nodded, seemingly in agreement with Yasmeen and looked urgently at Hammad. The old man gave a loud sigh, placed a hand upon Devraj's shoulder and agreed, "Perhaps Yasmeen is correct. I have faith our chief will make the correct decisions and not alter history for the worse. Ali will serve us well." ****  
  
The desert heat was bearing down upon them as they made their way through the desert on foot. They walked during the early morning and evening when the sun was lower and rested when the sun was at its height. Ali was weak still from his wound and Tony was certain the fight with Victor had drained the last of his strength. But the man was a fierce warrior and he found some deep reserve of endurance to carry him on.  
  
Tony was also glad Ali knew his way through the Sahara. Ali pointed them in the direction of water and food and they were able to sustain themselves as they walked. They had no other choice but to traverse the desert by foot and look for the Medjai of 1930 for the Staff of the Sun that was broken in two was worthless-incapable of generating the power needed to time travel. They had no chance of returning to their time without the staff of 1930 and Ali had insisted the Medjai would know where it was.  
  
"And if they do not yet have it," Ali said, "they will find it. We have a catalogue of all the ancient secrets, myths, sites and curses. With the clues left behind by the Medjai of centuries past, we can find just about anything in Egypt that hasn't already been looted. Even that does not mean it is unattainable." He'd smiled at Tony then with a hint of confidence, but his face was showing more pain and exhaustion than anything.  
  
It had been two days since they'd ventured away from the Fortress of Aten and Tony had to wonder just how long they would have to walk in the desert until they found someone to help them.  
  
That help came in the form of a trading caravan not two hours after Tony's contemplation that very morning. It was a large caravan and they waved it down along a desert path and inquired if they had any camels or horses for trade.  
  
"We have camels," one trader had said roughly with a sneer upon his face. "But what do you have, Medjai, that we would want in trade? Your kind in particular disgusts me and I would rather not barter with you for anything."  
  
Ali had glared at the man then and said in his most menacing tone as he drew his sword and placed it at the man's neck, "Not even for your life?"  
  
"And there are twenty men here who would shoot you dead as I fell," the man had replied and when Tony tapped Ali on the shoulder and said, "Uh, the man's right," Ali had returned his sword to its sheath and wished for his modern weaponry. He only carried one handgun with a seventeen round magazine, his knife and his swords. And though in ordinary circumstances that was more than enough firepower. Being weak, outgunned and without his automatic M-P 5 rifle or backup, however, he knew it was better to back down.  
  
"How about this?" Tony had then asked as he pulled the gold Rolex watch from his wrist.  
  
The trader had studied the timepiece closely and then offered, "One camel."  
  
"One.what? One camel? Are you insane? That's a Rolex. A $10,000 watch," Tony tried to argue and Ali grabbed his arm and yanked him away.  
  
"One camel will do," Ali had insisted and they collected the beast and continued their journey.  
  
"Why did you fold so easily, Ali, especially after you were ready to kill the man?" Tony later inquired after they had ridden for another hour.  
  
"I fear I did not have the strength to fight should any of those traders have challenged me. They were an unscrupulous bunch, but still, they would have defeated me," Ali explained.  
  
"You know, I'm really sorry I had to shoot you, Ali. I felt I had no choice. I was trying to protect my sister from Victor," Tony relayed, wondering why Ali had not broached the topic before, though it was obvious it was the bullet wound that was causing his weakness.  
  
"You need not apologize," he insisted weakly, his voice growing as feeble as his body felt. "You did what you had to do to save Rose. Besides, I have a feeling it was supposed to happen."  
  
Tony said no more until an hour later they were traversing a deeply carved ravine in the desert ground and stopping in front of a cave.  
  
"What is this place?" he inquired.  
  
"A place that will hopefully hold some answers. And after we have found some answers, we're going to find Hamunaptra."  
  
Tony shook his head. "No way. I'm not going back there. That place is creepy."  
  
"Yes, we will go back there," Ali said as he stepped off the kneeling camel, his legs almost buckling as he did. Tony caught him by the arm to steady him and Ali added, "If we go to Hamunaptra, the Medjai will find us."  
  
They walked into the Cave of Prophecies together as Tony asked, "Why will they find us there? And don't you know where they're at?"  
  
"Hamunaptra is an ancient site we guard with our lives. There are dangers there we want no one to discover. Any interloper is found within a day. And I do not know where the Medjai of 1930 are, for in this time there are still several tribes scattered throughout Egypt. They are mostly nomadic or at least live in makeshift camps. There are few permanent Medjai settlements and my grandfather's tribe has not yet given up their nomadic ways. And from what you told me, it was my grandfather who rescued Rose."  
  
"Well, I didn't get a name, but he looked just like you-add a few tattoos that is," Tony said.  
  
Ali nodded and then pointed to the far wall of the cave they had entered. There, freshly painted upon the wall was Rose's picture and his name.  
  
"Ardeth Bay," Ali said as he touched his grandfather's name. "This is who you saw, I am certain. And this is Rose. She is destined to be my wife."  
  
Ali then looked up at Tony with a challenge in his eyes as if to say, "Dare defy me on that point." Tony merely smiled and said instead, "I hope she will be too, Ali. You're a good man."  
  
Ali nodded and sat on the ground under Rose's picture, his back to the wall. He sighed heavily and announced, "From the looks of the fire pit, I'd say someone has been here recently. And the paint of this picture is still relatively new. I will need help getting the information we need, Tony. Can I trust you to help me?"  
  
"You once trusted me with your life, didn't you? Besides, you can trust me to do anything, Ali, that's going to help my sister," Tony said.  
  
"Good," Ali returned. "You can start by opening the hidden entrance on that far wall. ****  
  
Rose awoke early the next morning, the first to arise. She was surprised to find the man and the boy still sleeping, for during their travels thus far, they had both always arisen before her. But she had beaten them to the draw this morning and she pulled off the Medjai robe that she'd covered herself with for the night, and stood to stretch.  
  
Quietly, so as not to disturb the others in the gray dawn hours, Rose sipped some stale water from her canteen, then ate a few rations of dried fruit. As satisfied as the rations and water could make her, she then took a good look around the area they were camped. The night before they had stopped after sunset, the sky dark, and she had no idea where they were. Yet as she continued to glance around the area, something looked familiar.  
  
In the distance, she saw running water-a stream, or a river perhaps. And they were camped at the base of a tall plateau. There was something about the landscape that she caught her attention and that was odd, for everything so far had looked exactly alike.  
  
Grabbing her horse and not bothering to saddle it, she swung onto its back and was just about to ride out of camp when a strong hand caught the mare's reins.  
  
"Going someplace, Rose?" Ardeth asked and his voice held a hint of suspicion.  
  
Rolling her eyes with exasperation, for Ardeth had barely said a word to her the day before and when he did, only spoke blunt and tersely, Rose answered, "I'm just going to ride up this rise. I'm curious about something. Come along if you must."  
  
She saw Ardeth hesitated for only a moment before he grabbed a handful of the horse's mane and swung himself up behind her, bumping her in the process. He was built tall and powerfully, just like Ali, and again she was homesick.  
  
Once he was settled, Rose gently kicked the horse into a walk and started up the barely worn trail of switch-backs cut into the side of the plateau. As soon as the incline increased, Ardeth reached around her-one hand grabbing a fistful of mane again, another encircling her waist. Rose too had to hang onto the horse's mane for fear of sliding right off the back and taking Ardeth with her.  
  
"I'm sorry, I guess I should have saddled the horse," Rose apologized half- way through the ride.  
  
"It is no inconvenience," he replied matter-of-factly. "However, it will be interesting to see how we get down without sliding right over the horse's head."  
  
Rose laughed for Ardeth's light moments were so few and far between, she wanted to take advantage of them. Ali had made her laugh a lot. She loved that sense of humor about him. She wished Ardeth possessed more of that. Yet she had realized something these past days watching him and listening to his and Hammad's stories about the Medjai, and that was how incredibly daunting his role in this era was. Not only did he have to guard the ancient secrets of Egypt, but also keep track of warring tribes and desert bandits. Tomb raiders were still a threat in this age and Rose knew exactly what history had in store for the world during the next fifteen years. Taking all that into consideration, she realized why Ardeth's humor was so rare.  
  
Thinking of that, Rose remained quiet the entire ride up the plateau. It took at least five minutes to reach the top and when they finally reached level ground, Ardeth said with more humor, "I do believe that is the longest I have heard you go without talking."  
  
He had released the horse's mane, but his other hand was still on her stomach, resting lightly. She didn't even notice for she felt comfortable with his nearness.  
  
"Are you complaining?" she asked back.  
  
"No. In fact, it was rather nice," he drawled sarcastically.  
  
Then he slipped off the back of the horse and held out a hand for Rose. She frowned at him, faking more anger than she felt, and jumped down without assistance.  
  
He pulled his hand back then and returned her expression.  
  
"Are all women of your era so.stubborn and independent?" he inquired.  
  
"Most," she replied, then placed a challenging hand upon her hip. "Why, does that threaten you?"  
  
She was expecting him to frown at her again for her taunt. Instead, he smiled easily-it was a lazy smile, one that Ali had thrown her on more than one occasion when he'd felt he had gotten the best of her-and then said, "Actually, I find it quite intriguing. I wish more women of this era possessed that attitude. A Medjai chief would be wise to make such a woman his wife."  
  
If he was expecting her to blush at his compliment, he was wrong, for all she did was laugh in that giddy way she sometimes let show.  
  
"Your grandson said the exact same thing to me not so long ago," she confessed. "In fact, we even fought side by side against some of Oscar Mann's henchmen in that very same Cave of Prophecies we just left yesterday." She visibly shuddered then. "I still get nightmares about having had to shoot a man. But I saved Ali so I guess it evens out."  
  
Ardeth's eyes swept over her body, clad in those strange and form-fitting clothes of her time, and watched as she shivered at the memory. It again intrigued him as he realized she could be so very feminine and then so very tough. It was an unusual combination and again he was attracted by the forbidden.  
  
"Most women would not have been so brave," he insisted. "You have shown that bravery over and over since you have been in my company. You.impress me."  
  
Rose smiled at his compliment for it meant a lot to her. Being accepted by Ardeth and his sometimes rough ways was like being accepted by Ali's family. If the family patriarch approved, then she was truly supposed to be Ali's wife.  
  
Then the smile faded from her lips as she realized she was not quite so brave when she considered what the future could hold. She could very well be carrying Ali's baby and stuck in 1930 with only its great-grandfather for comfort. It was an odd scenario and suddenly she wondered if Ali would ever see his child.  
  
When the look of uncertainty settled upon Rose's face, Ardeth asked, "I said something wrong?"  
  
She shook her head and rushed at him throwing her arms around his waist and burying her face in his robe. It was covered in as much dirt and dust as she was, but she didn't care.  
  
"Rose, what is the matter?" Ardeth inquired hesitantly, taken aback by her sudden display of affection. The affection she had bestowed upon him in the Fortress of Aten had made sense. She'd been looking for comfort after just having been left behind in 1930. What she was looking for now was unknown to him.  
  
"Tell me, Ardeth," she began, feeling one of Ardeth's hands finally land lightly upon her shoulder, "does Hammad really possess a special gift?"  
  
"He does."  
  
"And what he sees really comes true?" she continued.  
  
"So far. I am convinced of it, or I would not have a twelve-year old boy ride with my warriors. He is too young to be among us, yet we always keep him near for his revelations have saved us many times," he explained. "He is wise beyond his years at times. Other times, he is just a boy."  
  
Rose again buried her face deeper into the folds of Ardeth's robe and contemplated her future.  
  
"That's what I was afraid of," she said quietly, "that he was right all the time. I know everything he told me back in my time has come true and I'm afraid what he told me yesterday will too."  
  
"And what did he tell you yesterday?" Ardeth questioned, placing both hands on Rose's shoulders and pushing her back from his body. That brave, confident woman looked anything but and he suddenly felt fear himself.  
  
"I'd rather not say just yet, Ardeth. Its rather private." Then she bit her bottom lip and leaned her forehead against his chest, obviously in search of comfort. "I need Ali," she whispered quietly, and Ardeth wondered if he was even supposed to hear her words as he allowed his grip on her shoulders to loosen and she again snuggled against his chest.  
  
He relented and wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her tightly for a very long time, then said quietly, "I am sure, whatever it is, will work out for the best, my darling."  
  
Rose laughed softly then confessed, "Oh how you sound and feel just like Ali. In fact, as long as I don't look at your tattoos, I'm positive you are him sometimes."  
  
"I am not him," he returned with a rough edge she did not catch.  
  
"Don't shatter the illusion. Let me pretend a while longer, would you?" she asked, her voice muffled against his chest. "Let me remember what if felt like in his arms and how his voice would wash over me as he called me 'my darling' too. I loved the feel of his solid chest against my cheek.it felt just like it feels now. So strong, so smooth and your heart beating with the determined pulse of life. I laid there and listened to it beat so strongly that day we made love, Ali. I'll never forget what it felt like to be with you even if I never make it home."  
  
Finding himself drawn into Rose's fantasy, it took Ardeth a moment to even realize she had switched realities on him. Suddenly, he felt like a prop and as much as he wanted to continue to hold her, he knew he could not.  
  
Holding her at arm's length, Ardeth said firmly, "I am not Ali, Rose."  
  
She stared at him with a blank expression, then blinked, blushed and stepped away.  
  
"God, I'm sorry!" she said, throwing a hand to her flushed cheek. "I'm really sorry, Ardeth."  
  
"No harm done," he answered stiffly.  
  
"Yes, there is. I embarrassed you," she argued. She had embarrassed herself, she realized. Not only had she made Ardeth feel uncomfortable with her actions, her words had obviously been too intimate, expressing nearly every detail of hers and Ali's relationship.  
  
Ardeth chuckled at her then and there was something predatory in the way he sounded. "I cannot speak for your Ali, but I am not put off by such intimate talk."  
  
That Bay arrogance reared its ugly head and Rose suddenly wanted to make Ardeth feel as uncomfortable as she now felt.  
  
"Is that so?" she challenged. "Well, then maybe you'd like to know why I am so upset this morning. Maybe you'd like to know that Hammad told me yesterday that I'm carrying Ali's child.the next chief of the Medjai who's name he painted on the Cave of Prophecies' wall."  
  
Rose had reached her goal and then some. Ardeth gaped at her for a moment, then looked away, his tanned cheeks blushing lightly under his tattoos of honor and strength. Rose never would have thought him a man that would blush, but he was doing so and she would have smiled had he not then suddenly paled.  
  
"I guess you succeeded in proving me wrong," Ardeth finally said quietly.  
  
"I'm sorry," Rose told him, " but I guess I really just had to tell someone to see if it was real."  
  
"If Hammad said it was so, then it more than likely is."  
  
Rose sighed. "That's what I was afraid of. Now do you understand why I was so upset this morning? I have no qualms about having a baby. What I'm worried about, is having a baby here in 1930 without Ali." She reached out and touched Ardeth's shoulder and asked urgently, "Ardeth, what will I do if we can't find the staff and I'm stuck here?"  
  
Ardeth's brown eyes, usually dark and intimidating, softened as he scanned her face. It was a look that told her he understood and despite his rough ways he did harbor a soft side. It was that soft side that obviously prompted him to gently caress her cheek, kiss her forehead and say, "If you must remain here, you will be treated like a member of my family and cared for as such. And I will help you raise this child and instruct him in the ways of the Medjai. But you see, Rose, that is not what the future holds, for your place is back in your time. You belong to your Ali and you will see him again."  
  
Smiling at him with the questioning look of a child, Rose asked, "Is that a promise?"  
  
Nodding once with resolution, Ardeth agreed, "That is a promise."  
  
Though it was a promise he did not want to make he had no choice. His duty came before his happiness and after spending such close, intimate time with Rose this morning, he realized she loved Ali, his grandson, with every fiber of her soul. She could come to care for Ardeth as a member of Ali's family and any affection and closeness she shared with him was only out of that bond. And the fact that Rose saw him as more of a double for Ali than as his own man proved to him again what destiny had waiting.  
  
Rose smiled one last time, then suddenly turned her radiant expression away and gasped. The sun was rising over the far eastern plain and the river valley below was bathed in a glorious wash of sparkling gold light.  
  
"Ardeth, look!" Rose gasped, pulling away and walking toward the edge of the plateau that dropped off like a cliff. "It's just as I remembered it. I thought this spot looked familiar."  
  
When he joined her on the edge and looked at her with questions, Rose explained, "This is where you will settle the Medjai and make a permanent village. This is where Ali lives now and all the future Medjai."  
  
"All the Medjai?" he asked, suddenly interested in this topic. "But there are twelve tribes now. Thousands of warriors."  
  
Rose shrugged. "I only know about that one tribe. I'm not sure there are twelve in the future."  
  
Ardeth completely forgot about any intense feelings of attraction he'd felt only moments ago with Rose and felt only dread. He had an idea as to what exactly would happen to those large numbers of Medjai. They would more than likely be greatly hurt when the Army of Anubis came forward. He, however, mentioned none of that to Rose and instead looked down at the river valley below.  
  
"There's plenty of water here," Rose continued. "The river, obviously, but also a rare underground aquifer. It'll become a unique village. A grand mix of tradition and modernism."  
  
Ardeth nodded, then said, "When this is all through, I will send tribesmen to scout the location. If it has what you say it does, Rose, then my tribe will settle here."  
  
Rose smiled at him and he smiled at her. Then he nodded in the direction of the horse and said, "Lets try and ride this beast back down without falling off."  
  
Rose nodded and followed him to the horse. Climbing up behind him and holding on as they rode back down to camp, she had a feeling she had just made a wonderful friend. And if things were drastically different, if she'd been from his time instead of her own, she could easily find herself as madly in love with him as she was with Ali. **** 


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20  
  
They had remained in the Cave of Prophecies for the rest of the day and by nightfall, Tony and Ali were ready to leave. The information Ali had been seeking had finally been found in one of the many journals of recorded Medjai secrets. The journals were actually the secrets of Egypt, but no other group knew of all of them as the Medjai did.  
  
Tony had assisted Ali in finding the information. Not that Tony could read the ancient language they were written in, but he could open the "secret" entrance to the back chamber of the cave and find the hiding place and keep torches lit for Ali to read by.  
  
It was obvious Ali had only the strength to sit and read, and even that was taxing his reserves. He could barely walk and didn't even crack a smile at Tony's joke that instead of having a hidden lever to open the "secret" room, the Medjai should just use the old standby of "Open Seseme." Tony had figured out as much that Ali possessed a sense of humor during their time together, but it was obvious showing his humor at this stage in their travel was too draining. So, as Tony assisted Ali out of the cave and they mounted the camel, which grunted in protest, he kept any further jokes to himself.  
  
"Where to now?" Tony asked, then remembered, "Oh, right.Hamunaptra."  
  
"Yes, Hamunaptra," Ali repeated. Then with a heavy sigh, he said seriously, "If for some reason I am unable to carry out this mission, Tony, you must be prepared."  
  
"Don't start, Ali," he insisted, but the man didn't listen.  
  
The warrior continued. "You will eventually meet up with the Medjai at Hamunaptra. Continue to follow the path of the rising sun and you will discover the city a half days ride from here. Then show them my necklace to prove you are a friend. Ask for Ardeth Bay and I am sure he will know how to find the Staff of the Sun to get you and Rose home safely. And if he does not, tell him the key to start his journey is found in the catacombs beneath the museum in Cairo."  
  
When Tony said nothing, Ali asked, "Did you hear me?"  
  
"I heard you," Tony returned, miffed. "But its not like I'm going to have to remember it, Ali, because you're going to be fine. Once we get a chance to rest, you'll feel better."  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
"No perhaps about it. And remember, if you don't get there in one piece, Rosa is liable to kill you!" Despite his earlier resolve to keep his humor to himself, he couldn't help but try and prod Ali on.  
  
Ali gave the briefest of chuckles and agreed, "You are right about that." Then he sobered and added sadly, "Rose and I did not leave things between us in good standing. She was ready to leave me, I am sure, because I did not tell her about the Medjai."  
  
"There's one thing you have to remember about my sister, Ali, and that is, she gets over her anger very quickly. In fact, she was more concerned about you when I last saw her, than she was about the horrible trick Oscar and Victor were about ready to play on the world. And when I told her that I had not killed you, only pretended to, she was more relieved than I can say."  
  
"It is good to hear," Ali finally stated, then fell quiet.  
  
They rode for the rest of the night, and by morning, the rising sun was glittering over the city that Tony dreaded going back to so much. When they arrived, they secured the camel in the shade, then found their own to await the inevitable arrival of the Medjai.  
  
They came, boldly, by evening, and Tony went to awaken Ali, only to find him pushing to his feet on his own. He had heard or sensed their arrival, obviously, and was staring directly at each and every warrior as twenty or so halted their horses in front of the two men.  
  
The men's faces were all covered and one in particular stared hard at Ali, then dismounted and moved bravely forward.  
  
His keen eyes scanned Tony and Ali for a long moment, then finally asked in his heavily accented English, "Who are you? And why do you resemble our chief so much?"  
  
Ali, though barely strong enough to stand, smiled at the comparison and said, "I am Ali Bay. Grandson to Ardeth Bay, your chief. I am searching for him and the woman he rescued."  
  
The man stared menacingly at Ali for a long moment, then quickly drew his scimitar and placed the point on Ali's chest.  
  
"That is impossible, our chief has no heir, no family of his own. Only his mother he claims as family." Then the man looked Ali up and down and stopped at his combat boots. He kicked them with his leather boots and asked, "And what is this you wear?"  
  
"I am Medjai," Ali then said firmly. "I wear the Medjai attire from a generation you do not yet know. I am from the year 2001 and Ardeth Bay is my grandfather."  
  
"Prove it," the man said, his sword still aimed dangerously at Ali's chest. He never gave Tony a second look, but Tony did feel the eyes of the other warriors watching closely his every move.  
  
Slowly, Ali reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the charm. Its symbols signified his tribe and his position as chief. The man before him studied it for a moment and Ali was certain his eyes showed with some surprise, but he covered it well.  
  
"I have this, the charm of my ancestors and my face, does it not look like Ardeth Bay's?" Ali challenged.  
  
"Yes, you resemble him much, but what of your Medjai marks? Surely no Medjai chief would be allowed to rule without them."  
  
Ali unbuckled the sheath holding his swords and carefully laid the weapons on the ground. Then he took off his over-robe and then his long-sleeved black shirt. As soon as the warriors saw the marks on his chest, a murmur of whispers erupted among the men.  
  
"Enough!" the warrior in front of Ali yelled at his warriors. Then he stepped back, but did not withdraw the threat of his sword. To Ali, the man said, "I have seen many strange things happen the past few days. Men with dangerous weapons attacked us and escaped through the Fortress of Aten. A lady wearing the ring of a Medjai chieftain wife has been in our company and claims she knows the Medjai from the future. If you know her name and can describe her, I will believe you are the descendant of our chief."  
  
It was a fair deal, and Ali was glad the Medjai of this era were as diligent as the Medjai of the future in deciding who to trust and who not to trust.  
  
"Her name is Rose and she has a beauty unto herself. Blue eyes, brown hair and an attitude that won't quit," Ali said and as he finished talking, he smiled widely.  
  
The warrior frowned and returned his sword to his sheath.  
  
"That is her. You know doubt know her," he resigned.  
  
"She is to be my wife," Ali announced.  
  
The man then gave a half smile and drawled, "Better you than our chief, for she is much too strong-willed for the Medjai of this era. She is with Ardeth now, they have gone to Cairo."  
  
Relieved that this warrior was now believing him and talking easily, and that Rose was safely with Ardeth, Ali stooped down to grab his shirt and robe and inquired, "Why did grandfather.I mean, Ardeth, take Rose to Cairo? Are they searching for the Staff of the Sun?"  
  
"They are," the warrior answered. "But now that you are here, they can stop their search. You have the staff from your time with you, no doubt?"  
  
Ali and Tony glanced at each other with regret, then told the man, "Not exactly. There was a struggle for it with the men who were here before. It was broken."  
  
The man closed his eyes for a moment and groaned. "That is not good news." Then he opened his eyes and said, "In that case, I will escort you to Cairo and we will assist our chief in his mission. By the way, I am Rashid, second in command to Ardeth Bay."  
  
"It is good to meet you, Rashid," Ali told the warrior. "And we would appreciate your help."  
  
Tony watched as Ali was about to redress himself, then stopped him and said, "Ali, you should have one of these men look at your wound. I am sure it needs care after the time we have spent in the desert."  
  
"I am fine," Ali insisted.  
  
Tony glanced at Rashid and the warrior asked, "Are you hurt, my lord? I have a man who can attend to your wounds."  
  
Ali sighed. He was weak because he had left on a journey before his body was ready to endure such a hardship. The gunshot wound had not been life threatening, as the doctor had explained, but it he had lost blood and his body was still traumatized. And after trekking through the desert for days without any medical care, it was a good possibility that his wound was becoming infected. Stubborn, but not unreasonable, Ali nodded reluctantly and accepted Rashid's help. As soon as that was done, they would leave for Cairo. ****  
  
Rose laid on the large double bed, gazing at the ceiling fan whirling above. She had bathed and was dressed in a clean white cotton slip-top and slip-bottom. It was the best she had felt since arriving in 1930 and despite the fact that she was being forced to dress like a woman from that era, life could have been worse.  
  
They had arrived at the museum that morning, after having ridden hard for two days. The curator was a Medjai, yet he harbored no marks on his face. Ardeth had explained that it was easier for the curator to learn of expeditions into the desert and to pass on and gain information without notice, and Rose pointed out that was how it would be in the future too with all Medjai. Ardeth had acknowledged her reasoning with a nod, and she had noticed that his attitude toward her had been much more relaxed and friendly after their talk on the plateau.  
  
His insistence, however, that she dress like a westerner from 1930 had her miffed and his friendliness could not make up for the fact that she would have to put on the long-sleeved shirt and ankle-length skirt if she were to ever leave her room.  
  
Of course, it wasn't like Rose was in a hurry to leave the sanctuary of her room. They were staying in the quarters adjacent to the museum and it was quite luxurious compared to the Medjai camp. She had her own bathroom with hot and cold water, a comfy bed and borrowed clothes from a museum assistant. Her own were being laundered, and she realized that she would not be allowed to wear them as long as they were in the city. She had to blend in with the rest of the western visitors.  
  
She sighed and resigned herself to that eventuality, then heard a knock on her door. Giving the order to enter, she found Ardeth standing in the doorway.  
  
His dark eyes widened with some shock and Rose sat up on the bed and furrowed her brow.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked him.  
  
"I thought you would be dressed," he answered her with some embarrassment filling his tone. He began to leave when Rose halted him with her next words.  
  
"I am dressed," she insisted. "Maybe not dressed to go out, but dressed enough. Besides, I didn't think you were so uptight."  
  
"I am being gentlemanly. Perhaps men of your century do not act so, but I still believe in decorum."  
  
Rose laughed then and insisted, "If you think this is scantily clad, you'd die if you saw what women wear to the beach in America in the future. But since you're such a big sissy, I'll put on the clothes that cover me from head to toe.even though it is 120 degrees outside."  
  
She stood from the bed and picked up the dark beige skirt and the long- sleeved white shirt with sleeves that one could only describe as puffy. Rose glared at Ardeth as she yanked on the shirt and began to button it. He avoided eye contact and even avoided looking at her. He did, however, ask her a question.  
  
"What does 'sissy' mean?"  
  
Rose laughed and stepped into the skirt, leaving the top two buttons of the shirt undone. There was no way she was buttoning those things to her neck. Why hadn't she been able to arrive in the 1920s when women were wearing shorter skirts? Hemlines throughout history had risen and fallen many times, and unfortunately the hemlines of the 1930s were as low as the stock market.  
  
"It means you're a big wimp," she told him, tucking her shirt into her skirt and fastening the skirt at the back. She glanced away from him for a moment, searching for her shoes, then remembered she couldn't wear her tennis shoes with her skirt. Even in her own time she wouldn't dare make such a fashion fauxpau. Then she remembered the satin finished low-healed pumps the lady who worked in the museum had brought her along with the stockings and Rose thought she should have dressed in the stockings first. While she was contemplating the order of her dressing, she realized Ardeth was still looking confused.  
  
"I guess you don't know what a wimp is either. I'm sure its been used in this day and age before, but I'll enlighten you just the same. It means your being childish, a big crybaby," she elaborated.  
  
Ardeth looked at her face for a long moment, then burst out in laughter. Finally, after a long bout of chuckling, he took a deep breath and said, "Only a woman as bold as you, Rose, would dare call the chief of the first tribe of the Medjai such a name!"  
  
"I called Ali that name all the time," she announced, then added under her breath, "and some other ones too on occasion." Then she picked up the shoes and threw them on the bed next to the white stockings. "I'm dressed enough for company now. What did you want?"  
  
"You are not dressed enough," Ardeth argued. "We are leaving the museum and I am afraid you will need your shoes."  
  
"Ahhh," Rose grumbled, then hopped on the bed and began sliding into the stockings as nonchalantly as possible. "I really hope you know how uncomfortable I will be dressed in these clothes. Its horrible how many layers women are expected to wear."  
  
Ardeth had his back to her now, pretending to be studying the view outside her second story bedroom window.  
  
"Would you rather I took you out into the streets of Cairo amongst a culture much different than your own dressed like you were when I first found you? I am sure that would cause quite a stir." He turned around then, just as Rose was stepping into the shoes that she had to admit were pretty comfortable. "As it is," he continued as he stepped in front of her and brushed his fingers along the edge of her chin-length hair, "your hair is quite different than any American's or European's hair I have seen. Usually, they wear it longer and pulled back. I have seen styles even cut short, almost like a man's, but never something that is neither long, nor short."  
  
"I guess I'd rather not make a spectacle of myself," Rose conceded.  
  
Just then, Ardeth's fingers landed on the buttons of her shirt and secured the two she had failed to button.  
  
"No one wears their shirt undone," he informed her.  
  
Rose tugged at the collar that was lined with a hint of lace like the cuffs of her sleeves. "I don't think I can breath in this," she wined.  
  
He gave her a comical smile and took a quick step back. "Quit being such a sissy."  
  
Rose smiled at him then noticed his attire was different than his usual Medjai-ware. His robe was long and belted at his waist with his scimitars, and he wore a cape instead of an over-robe. But what was so intriguing about his wardrobe was the gold and silver embroidery along the edges of the robe. Symbols that Rose assumed were Medjai symbols adorned the robe in the same silver and gold thread and she was certain it was the most impressive costume she had ever seen.  
  
She reached out and traced her finger along the front of the robe. The collar was open and exposed the hard curve of his neck and she suddenly wondered if Ali possessed such a garment. It was magnificent and obviously had been hand crafted by someone with much skill.  
  
"This is beautiful," Rose said in awe as she continued to touch the stitching on the robe only out of curiosity. Then she looked up at Ardeth and caught an odd look in his eyes. It was quite similar to the look he'd thrown her at the Cave of Prophecies and she wondered again why he was staring at her so.  
  
"It is our ceremonial attire," he explained. "We wear it for special occasions."  
  
"And what is the special occasion tonight?" Rose inquired.  
  
"The museum is hosting a party tonight and sometimes I attend just to keep in touch with the archeologists in the area. To see who's doing what first hand and meet whomever I can," he said.  
  
"So we're going to a party tonight?" she inquired.  
  
He nodded, then added, "But first, I am going to show you Cairo. It would be a shame to have you travel back all these decades and not get to see what life was like in Cairo."  
  
Rose beamed at him for it was the first thing that sounded positive about being stranded in 1930.  
  
"Why Ardeth Bay, I do believe you make a gal one heck of a date," she teased.  
  
Ardeth stared at her quizzically, obviously thrown by her silliness, and then seemed to remember her fingers were still touching his robe and stepped back. He motioned toward the door and Rose exited ahead of him, excited about the evening that awaited her.  
  
And it was an exciting evening. Ardeth showed her the open markets, the Nile River and pointed out the great pyramids in the distance. He was charming and more relaxed than she ever imagined he could be. A bit of that warrior instinct was resting for the evening and Rose learned to enjoy the man that Ardeth was.  
  
However, the evening was not going to end on the same high note as it began. Apparently, the site of a Medjai chief and a western woman walking arm and arm in the Cairo of the 1930s was an oddity. Several people had stared often during the evening, and yet Rose had barely paid them any attention. She had been too busy learning about the history of the Medjai and about Cairo as Ardeth talked. But his story about how the Giza Pyramids were constructed was cut short as a man with a southern American drawl stepped in front of them and said, "If you need a proper escort, ma'am, I'd be more than happy to oblige you."  
  
Rose had hooked her right hand through Ardeth's left arm a long while before. It had always been second nature to hold onto Ali's arm when they had walked to and from work and with Ardeth it felt just as comfortable. Not to mention, it was safer to hold onto him in the crowded market-place they were leaving for it had been packed with shoppers. That arm, however, had suddenly grown stiff and she felt the muscles contract and watched as Ardeth's hand slid to the handle of his sword.  
  
"I have a proper escort, sir," Rose answered politely, figuring if she spouted off like she really wanted to, she'd draw more attention to she and Ardeth.  
  
The man who was dressed in a three-piece gray suit and wore a brimmed felt hat on his head stepped forward and corrected, "He is not a proper escort for an American lady such as yourself. Now, I would be willing to provide that proper escort for you, ma'am, if you would like." The man held his arm out toward Rose and she felt her lips frown.  
  
Feeling Ardeth's arm grow even more tense then, Rose gave it a squeeze as if to tell him to ignore the man and said, "I thank you for your concern, sir, but I am quite satisfied with my current escort. And, we do have an engagement, so if you would please excuse us."  
  
Rose gave Ardeth a subtle push to the right to indicate it was her wish to walk by the man and as they moved, the man grabbed her free arm and argued, "I cannot excuse you."  
  
Just as he began to pull Rose away from Ardeth, Rose heard the grating sound of metal against metal and saw the flash of Ardeth's sword. He'd drawn it with one hand then wrapped his other hand around the throat of the American man and took him back three steps where his back hit the wall of a store with a thud.  
  
With the tip of his sword pressed against the man's abdomen, Ardeth growled, "She has a proper escort, sir. Now leave us be before I decide I have to kill you."  
  
The man turned white as a sheet and trembled under the threat of the Medjai. Then he nodded vigorously and as soon as Ardeth released him, he ran away. Rose then glanced around and noticed all the onlookers who had stopped to stare. As soon as Ardeth turned his gaze from the fleeing man, however, and looked at the crowd, everyone scattered or pretended to go about their business.  
  
Ardeth replaced his sword, then moved next to Rose.  
  
"Are you hurt?" he inquired earnestly, his hand searing hot as it rested on her arm.  
  
Rose shook her head, amazed at how swiftly Ardeth had defended her. She then realized he would defend her as ardently as his grandson would and she suddenly wondered why. He hadn't had a moment's hesitation about acting and not once had he faltered. She admired that immensely. She had no time to thank him, however, for he was scuttling her away and back toward the museum before she could utter a word. ****  
  
The Medjai warriors had done all they could for Ali's wound and the fever he was feeling was evidence that it had become infected. The natural ointment they had applied was supposed to draw out the infection, but they said it would take a day or two and Ali had spent that day or two upon the back of a horse riding with Rashid and Tony toward Cairo.  
  
It was now nightfall on the second day and they were reaching the outskirts of town. Ali forced himself to keep his seat on the horse though he was feeling worse with each stride. Just another mile or two and he would be with his Rose. He repeated those thoughts over and over in his mind and he was able to fight off the weakness that wanted to claim his body. ****  
  
It wasn't until they arrived back at the museum and stood in the garden at the back of the building, that Ardeth released Rose's hand. He had hurried them back in fear for Rose's safety. It wasn't until that man had confronted them that Ardeth realized just how incredibly odd it was to see a Medjai warrior and a western woman together on the streets of Cairo. In fact, it was odd to even see a Medjai warrior in the city so it was no wonder that American man had worried about Rose's situation.  
  
Of course, there was nothing to fear, for though the Medjai had a ruthless reputation, they were a peaceful tribe as long as no one tried to uncover the dangers of ancient Egypt. If adventurers and archeologists kept to the safe sites, the Medjai left them be. It was only when someone threatened the safety of Egypt and the world that the Medjai struck and when they did, they struck with much force.  
  
And Rose, she obviously already knew that about the Medjai for she had not feared him or his warriors once since she'd been in their company. She was a brave woman and he couldn't help but find that attractive. Who was he kidding, he was attracted to everything about her and that scene in her room earlier had not helped his resolve to behave himself. She'd boldly dressed in front of him, then closely inspected his embroidered robe with her fingers tracing lightly across his chest. Obviously there was nothing inappropriate on her side-she was simply curious and her ways were much different than his because of the time in which she lived-but it still didn't mean Ardeth quit feeling attraction.  
  
He contemplated that as he stood in the garden of the museum, hearing the music from the party that had already started inside, and gazed at the stone fountain in the center of the courtyard.  
  
"This is lovely," Rose said as she walked in a large circle, examining everything in the garden. "And the party has started." She stopped and turned her attention to the open doors that led into the museum from which the sounds of music were coming. "Oh, and listen to that music.its totally retro."  
  
Ardeth threw her a slanted glance, often confused by her vocabulary and she obviously sensed that confusion for she strode toward him and said with a radiant smile, "It means old fashioned."  
  
He nodded, though to him old fashioned meant 1800s, not 1930 and caught the tune of the music himself.  
  
"It sounds like a lovely party," he told her. "Would you like to join it?"  
  
Rose shook her head. "Not just yet. I'm afraid I would say something that would give me away. I mean, what on earth could I talk to those people about? They don't have the Internet, there's no rock 'n roll and they haven't even heard of television yet. I'd be an absolute bore."  
  
Without thinking, Ardeth blurted out, "You could bore no one, Rose. You are entirely too appealing for that."  
  
"Thanks for the compliment, Ardeth," she said happily. "And thank you so very much for the date tonight."  
  
Ardeth then groaned and raised his eyes toward the heavens. They were littered with stars and had this been any other woman, he would have thought it a romantic sight. But she was Rose, his grandson's future wife, and he had no right talking with her under a romantic blanket of stars and wishing that she could stay with him instead of returning home to her time.  
  
"It was no compliment, woman, and that was no date," he growled, returning his gaze to hers. His frustration must have shown on his face for Rose seemed to start when his eyes landed on her.  
  
"It was my selfishness," he then added and she frowned.  
  
"What on earth are you talking about?" she questioned. Then she took a step forward, placing her body directly in front of his and said, "Ardeth, there isn't a selfish bone in your body. You've been bending over backwards to try and find a way to get me home and to be a friend to me and I appreciate it more than you know."  
  
She then wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. Ardeth immediately returned the embrace and realized he would always remember that sweet flowery scent that was unique unto her and the teasing glint that sparkled in her blue eyes. No woman after her could ever compare and for the first time in his life he felt sorry for himself that he could never have her for his own.  
  
"The thing is, my darling," Ardeth began, as he continued to hold her, "I do not want you to."  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" shouted a deep voice. "Get your hands off her!"  
  
A strong, solid hand landed on Ardeth's shoulder and dragged him away from Rose. He was so shocked at the intrusion that he spun, grasped the attacker's shoulders and shoved him against the wall of the museum before he ever saw the man's face. Images of that man from the streets of Cairo were at the front of his mind and he was certain that was his attacker. Yet when Rose cried out, "No, Ardeth, don't!" and he caught a mirror image of himself as a thud from the impact of the wall against the man's back echoed through the courtyard, Ardeth realized it was someone entirely different.  
  
"Ahhhh!" the cry of pain escaped the man in a quiet hiss and eyes that matched his own closed for a moment. Then the man's body began to slide down the wall but not before a small smile played about the man's mouth and he opened his eyes and said with knowledge, "Grandfather." His eyes then closed again and remained shut.  
  
"Oh, no, Ali," Rose said urgently, pushing past Ardeth and kneeling next to Ardeth's future offspring. "Ali, are you hurt? Ali?"  
  
Ardeth heard the near hysterical sound of Rose's voice and he never would have thought she could sound so distraught. Reluctantly, he knelt down beside her and stared at Ali's face. Ardeth felt the breath catch in his lungs as he saw his twin. The man was him in nearly every feature and Ardeth now realized why Rose had seen Ardeth as a body-double.  
  
"Ardeth, do something," Rose insisted, turning and grabbing the front of his robe. "He's hurt."  
  
Ardeth reached out and touched Ali's forehead then his neck. It was hot to the touch and slick with perspiration. He was breathing and his pulse was fast and Ardeth had no clue as to what this man's dilemma could be.  
  
"What did you do to him?" Rose then questioned, her hand landing on Ali's face again.  
  
"I only pushed him into the wall. Nothing more," Ardeth explained. "I thought he was that man from the street."  
  
Rose nodded and said with a trembling voice, "Please don't tell me I've come this far only to lose him now."  
  
"Rosa," her name was suddenly called and Tony was at her side. Ardeth remembered the man from Hamunaptra and wondered with fear if the group had returned to continue their evil plot against history. But when Rashid appeared next, Ardeth had a feeling that danger was well past.  
  
"Rosa, what happened?" Tony inquired, stopping at her side and then looking down at Ali.  
  
"Ali grabbed Ardeth.and then he was pushed into the wall.and he just passed out," she attempted to explain.  
  
"Sis, its all right," Tony tried to assure her. "I think he was ready to pass out on us for the entire past two days."  
  
Rose glanced at him with confused eyes and then Rashid stepped forward and added, "Yes, he has been very weak, Ardeth. He is injured and the injury has an infection. I tried to make him rest, but he wanted to find his woman."  
  
Ardeth felt mixed feelings over the arrival of Ali. On the one hand, it meant the temptation of Rose would no longer be gnawing at his insides. Yet, it also meant she'd be gone sooner than he'd anticipated and it pained him to think about it.  
  
Not wanting to look upon the man that resembled him so much, Ardeth stood and ordered to Tony and Rashid, "Carry him upstairs and look after him."  
  
The men did as instructed and as his body was jostled, Ali whispered softly, "Rose."  
  
"I'm here, honey," she said, but the man was not yet conscious despite his utterance and the men continued inside the museum.  
  
Rose was poised to follow, when Ardeth caught her arm and said with regret, "I am sorry he is not well. I never would have fought him off had I known who it was."  
  
Rose nodded and placed her hand over his where it grasped her arm.  
  
"I know Ardeth. You'd never harm your own family." She then smiled sweetly, having no idea just how poignant her words to him were and stood on tiptoe to softly kiss his mouth. It was not a kiss of passion, but rather of adoration and friendship and she added a quick, "Thank you so very much for the night out. I'd better go take care of Ali." And then, she was gone. ****  
  
How long now had she been by his side, waiting? Rose glanced at her watch, but wasn't certain what time it was that she had rushed to Ali's side. It must have been at least two hours ago. Tony and the Medjai, Rashid, had assisted her in getting Ali undressed down to this pants and into bed. Rashid had also tended to Ali's wound, which he insisted was looking better than when he'd found Ali two days earlier. And Tony had been in and out, making sure Ali and Rose were both all right.  
  
Rose was doing much better now that Ali was within her reach. His skin, however, was still hot to the touch and she worried excessively about his health. And if anything happened to him now that they'd found each other, Rose wasn't sure she would be able to survive. Being away from him these past few days had made her realize just how much he meant to her. He was her best friend, her lover and her hero. He'd saved her from Victor and he was so incredibly good that she couldn't help but admire him.  
  
And what if something did happen?  
  
Rose visibly shook her head as she remained seated on the edge of the bed, holding Ali's hand and every few minutes cooling his face with a damp washcloth. Nothing was going to happen to him. He would get better and they would return to 2001 together.  
  
Yet..what if?  
  
Her mind couldn't help but contemplate that dismal thought. After all, he had been shot and his body was weak from both infection and exhaustion from his trek through the desert. And after what Hammad had said.well, if it was true she was going to have a child, Ali's child, then he just had to live.  
  
But if he didn't, if he never made it, she would remain here in 1930 with Ardeth and her brother for she had nothing else to return to in 2001.  
  
That wouldn't be necessary, however, because Ali would wake up any moment. She knew he would.  
  
She tenderly touched his handsome face and whispered, "You'll be all right, Ali. I know you will." And when he neither stirred nor opened his eyes, Rose felt tears, hot and damp, drip down her face. ****  
  
Ardeth paced in that same courtyard he'd been in since Ali had arrived. He had not ventured out of it, for he knew as soon as he did he would have to face Rose and his grandson. He didn't want to be jealous of his own flesh and blood, but he couldn't help it. After all, he might be a warrior and a chief, but he was still a man with the same emotions as every other man on the planet. And when a woman was involved, those emotions were rarely gentle-they were usually volatile.  
  
Yet it had been at least two hours since Rose and Ali had left. Was Ali all right, or was he still unconscious?  
  
Rashid had come to tell Ardeth an hour before that Ali was still unresponsive. But a lot could happen in an hour, and Ardeth wondered if he shouldn't at least check. There was, after all, a future Medjai chief upstairs in the museum. His off spring. He should be concerned.  
  
He knew, however, that if he spent any amount of time with the man, he'd no longer be able to feel jealous feelings about Rose. For if he got to know the man who had inherited his face, voice and mannerisms so completely, he would no doubt love him with all his heart. And once he realized that love that a person could only feel for a member of their family, he would have to release Rose in his own heart.  
  
And he wasn't ready to release Rose. He hadn't been given enough time with her and he was positive once she left his life, he would never find one quite so unique as she. Of course, it could very well be that her uniqueness only lay in the fact that she hailed from the future.  
  
No, Ardeth corrected, her uniqueness hailed from her soul-from her inner strength and fearlessness. She would have been the same person had she been born in the 1500s instead of in her own time.  
  
Having run all those thoughts through his head time and time again, Ardeth finally decided to climb the stairs to the second floor to check on Rose and Ali.  
  
He found them, both in Rose's room. Ali still oblivious to the world around him, Rose lying with her head upon Ali's bare chest, sobbing. It pained Ardeth to see both in such a state, and he quickly moved to the bedside and touched Rose's shoulder.  
  
"Rose, are you all right?" Ardeth inquired.  
  
She jerked her head up and shook her head, wiping at her eyes.  
  
"All's I seem to do is cry any more. You must think I'm a big wimp," she said between sobs.  
  
Ardeth gave her a soft, tender smile and wiped at the tears at her face.  
  
"I would never think that," he returned. "You are much too bold to be a sissy."  
  
His use of the word she had taught him earlier caused her to laugh and her sobs dissipated with the humor.  
  
"Thanks, Ardeth," she told him.  
  
"Thanks for what?"  
  
"Thanks for making me feel better. You and Ali have that same gift to make me laugh. Although, your humor is much more subtle." Rose turned and looked down at Ali again. "He loves a good joke, you know. And now that I see you two together, I would swear I was looking at identical twins." She then touched Ali's face and smoothed his raven hair away from his face. "He has your handsome features, your beautiful voice and that dauntless warrior personality. You must have taught him well when he was a boy." When she was finished with her words, she stopped and looked up at Ardeth.  
  
Ardeth looked at her, warmed by her compliments, then gazed past her to Ali. Now that Ardeth was taking the time to study the man, he had to admit they looked very much alike. If Ali had possessed the same facial tattoos, then they would be almost impossible to tell apart.  
  
"Yes," Ardeth said with quiet humor, "I suppose he is almost as handsome as me."  
  
Rose smiled widely and then turned completely away from Ali and hugged Ardeth around the waist. His swords were in the way, but she didn't care. She cared for this man and was thankful he'd been at Hamunaptra to save her. She would always thank him for that.  
  
"I see, I'm unconscious for a few moments, and this is what I find? You hugging another man?" a weak voice interjected from behind.  
  
Rose released Ardeth and spun around to see Ali's brown eyes focused on her. Immediately she dove atop him, grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him on each cheek, on the forehead, on the lips. She apparently jostled him in her efforts to greet him, for he hissed in protest and she saw the pain radiate to his handsome face.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, sitting up and touching his face gently. "Ali, how do you feel?"  
  
"Like a speeding bullet ripped through me," he drawled sarcastically.  
  
Rose smiled at him and felt a new bout of tears escape her eyes.  
  
"Ali, I'm so sorry about that night you told me about the Medjai," Rose said hurriedly. "I overreacted and."  
  
Ali placed a finger upon her lips and said, "Hush. You had every right to overreact. I knew for a long while I should have told you. But I was so afraid of losing you, that I kept it all hidden. I was a fool."  
  
Rose shook her head. "No. You're magnificent. And I'm so proud of you and the Medjai."  
  
A smile played about his lips and he gazed at her as though it had been years since his eyes had drank her in.  
  
"And I love you," he finally said.  
  
"Same here," she returned.  
  
She kissed him again and realized right then and there that it didn't matter if they ever returned to 2001. They were together again and that was all that mattered.  
  
Ardeth's boots scuffed along the wooden floor and Rose quickly pulled away from Ali and caught Ardeth just before he fled with her words, "Ardeth, wait."  
  
He had been attempting to flee unnoticed, uncomfortable being in the same room while the two lovers confessed their love, but Rose apparently would not let him go. He wished she would, for watching her kiss Ali so tenderly was tearing at his soul.  
  
"I should leave," he said, his hand on the doorknob, his feet ready to walk out the door.  
  
"But Ali's awake," she said, "don't you think you should stay and."  
  
"No, I do not think I should stay," he snapped rather harshly, sorry for his tone, but having to find a way to leave as quickly as possible. "I need to go. I will speak with you later."  
  
"Grandfather?" Ali's voice then questioned hesitantly, and Ardeth closed his eyes and cursed at the feeling of pride that was welling up inside of him just from the sound of the other man's voice.  
  
"Later, Ali. We will speak later," Ardeth ordered without looking at his grandson. "I will send Rashid up to check on your injury." And he was gone before another word could be uttered.  
  
Ali pushed to a sitting position, though his muscles were weak and his wound throbbed painfully. Yet he wanted to go speak with Ardeth, for the man seemed put out. Not to mention, the shock of seeing his grandfather, so young, so strong and so handsome, was a sight to behold. He wanted to spend time with him and ask him all the questions he'd never had the chance to ask as a boy. But the weight of Rose's hand on his chest kept him in bed.  
  
"Ali, honestly, you need to rest," Rose chastised.  
  
"I want to see Ardeth," Ali told her. "He seems upset."  
  
"Yeah, he has his moods," she relayed. Then she turned her head to stare at the door he had just vanished through. "For the life of me, I can't figure them out, either. But lately, he and I were getting along wonderfully. In fact, he took me out and showed me Cairo this evening. Oh, Ali, you should see it! Its amazing here in 1930." She stood up and twirled in front him, showing off her outfit. "And get a look at this outfit. Is it me or what?"  
  
Ali chuckled and reached a hand out to her. She was the medicine he needed and he already felt his strength returning just by being with her again.  
  
"You my love, would look lovely in anything," he declared as she placed her hand in his. With his free hand, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his Medjai charm. "And as soon as I can get the clasp repaired, you will look just as lovely in this."  
  
Rose gasped and took the pendant in her hand. "Ali, how did you get this? I thought Victor."  
  
"Victor is dead," Ali interrupted her to say. His voice was cold and immediately Rose saw the man she love transform into the warrior who had saved her life. "I killed him. He will never harm you again."  
  
Rose swallowed and nodded. She felt no remorse over Victor's death. In fact, just a week ago she would have killed him herself had she not missed and hit only his arm. What she did feel, however, was remorse that Ali again had killed to save her.  
  
"I'm glad he's gone," she told him, then sat on the bed next to him. "I shot him myself at Hamunaptra. He was trying to kill Ardeth."  
  
Ali smiled then and let go of her hand to place it on her face. "Ah, you are developing a reputation for rescuing us Bay men, I see."  
  
Rose leaned her cheek against his hand, wanting to feel more of his touch, warm and caring and said softly, "And the Bay men are developing a reputation for saving my life. Ardeth killed Oscar Mann. My gun was jammed and he bravely killed the man and saved history from Oscar's cruel game. Everything is safe now, Ali, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes, everything is safe. The Fortress of Aten will not be used for evil now," he assured her. "And you will become my wife."  
  
"I know, and I can't wait. When can we return to 2001 and get married?" she inquired.  
  
Ali's brown eyes glanced away from her face and his hand dropped away from her cheek. "I don't know, Rose. The Staff of the Sun.it was damaged. Our only hope is to find the staff that exists here in 1930."  
  
Rose should have felt dread from the news, but having Ali in front of her, looking more healthy every moment, she could feel nothing but elation.  
  
"It doesn't matter if we never find it," Rose said. "You're here now and that's all that matters. I can live here with you just fine."  
  
"Yes, but can the people of 1930 live here with you?" Ali questioned humorously.  
  
Rose threw him a glare of mock anger and then leaned forward and kissed his forehead.  
  
"You, Ali Bay, are incorrigible. But I still love you with all my heart." She stood and then added, "And now, I am going to get you some food and some water and then scrub the week's worth of desert off your body in the bath."  
  
He threw her a comical smile, about ready to say something, she knew, in connection with her last comment, and she held up a hand and shook her head. "Don't even say that little taunt that is growing in your mind about the bath I mentioned."  
  
He sighed. "Fine, I won't. I'm too tired to taunt you anyhow."  
  
She smiled and he smiled and then she walked out the door to fulfill her promises.  
  
****  
  
Ali had eaten some, drank some water but had been too exhausted for the bath Rose had promised him. In fact, he was now asleep again, and Rose sat on the bedside watching him breathe easily. The color in his face seemed less drained and his slumber was peaceful and easy. Rose was glad and felt she could finally leave his side to take care of herself.  
  
It was well into the night by now and Tony had been by several times to check on her. Rose was happy having her brother around, his easy, kind ways making her feel at home in any situation. Yet, this time, she didn't need to be made to feel that way, for she had Ali and that meant all was right.  
  
She yawned, stretched her arms over her head and heard her stomach grumble. She hadn't eaten in hours, having skipped dinner because of Ali's arrival. She needed something to eat, or the growling of her stomach would surely awaken Ali. Changing out of the borrowed 1930's fashions, Rose found her recently laundered white shirt and blue jeans and then quietly exited the room.  
  
She padded down the stairs, barefoot, and wove her way through the museum offices toward the kitchen. When she reached the kitchen entrance, she paused and looked down the long hall that led to the storage rooms. A door was open and a light was on. Knowing that the museum party had been over for hours, Rose quietly made her way down to the open door and peered inside, wondering just who was working in the storage rooms at this hour.  
  
She found no one. The room was empty, or so she thought. Upon further inspection, she saw a slab of stone from the floor removed and a gaping hole in the middle of the room. Carefully she edged toward the hole and was just about to look in when a figure appeared from out of the hole. Rose screamed and jumped back and the man in the hole nearly fell back in.  
  
"Damn, woman," came the harsh retort. "What are you doing here?"  
  
It was Ardeth and once Rose caught sight of his tattooed face, she breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Ardeth, you startled me," she said.  
  
"And you startled me," he told her. Then he stood and held his hand down into the hole and assisted Rashid up.  
  
Rose took a few steps closer and glanced down at the darkness below. "What's down there?"  
  
"The catacombs," Ardeth said, then pulled a small dirty golden artifact from the pocket of his black pants. Rose noticed he had changed out of his embroidered robe and cape from earlier and was simply wearing his black pants and tunic shirt. They were dusted with dirt. "We were looking for this."  
  
It was the size of Ardeth's palm, square and should have been gold except for the dirt corroding it. The insides of the square were cut into the most unusual designs and a long leather strand was tied to it.  
  
"What is it?" Rose inquired.  
  
"The key to a secret tomb in the Valley of the Kings. It will open the vault hiding the Staff of the Sun," Ardeth explained. "It has been buried for centuries," he dangled the key from the leather strand and added, "hung around the neck of a mummy."  
  
Rose wrinkled her nose in disgust and said, "Glad you didn't ask me to tag along down there. I don't think I would have liked it much."  
  
Ardeth handed her the key, then with Rashid's help, they slid the large stone into place in the floor of the store room. When Ardeth straightened, Rose smiled and asked, "So, how long does it take to get into the Valley of the Kings and back?"  
  
Rashid and Ardeth glanced at each other and when Rose asked, "What's wrong?" Rashid excused himself and Rose was left alone with Ardeth.  
  
"Ardeth," Rose demanded when he looked at her with some regret. "What's that look for?"  
  
"You are always trying to interpret my looks, Rose," he said. "Why is that?"  
  
"Probably because you are such a difficult man to figure out. I can never read you as easily as I can Ali."  
  
He gave a small, shy smile and confessed, "I am glad you cannot, otherwise, you and I may not be such good friends."  
  
Rose was just about to ask what he meant by that, when he said quickly, "As for the look of apprehension Rashid and myself just exchanged, it is only because finding the Staff of the Sun may not be so easy. The Valley of the Kings is full of archeologists and diggers and the Medjai would be greatly noticed. It will take some doing for us to infiltrate. And when we do, we might discover that the secret room that holds the staff has already been compromised. After all, tomb raiders have been taking what they wanted from the Valley of the Kings for thousands of years now. If they broke into the hidden chamber, the staff could very well be in someone's private collection. That will then take even more time to locate and track down. But from all accounts, I have never heard of any collector possessing the staff, so that is good news."  
  
"Well," Rose said, exhaling a deep breath, "I suppose we'll find it when we find it. Now that Ali is here, its not quite as urgent as it was before."  
  
Ardeth gave her a hard stare and insisted, "Yes, it is still urgent. A Medjai chief is surely being missed by his tribe in 2001. It is imperative we get Ali home."  
  
"And I suppose you'll feel a lot of peace once I'm back where I belong too," Rose added humorously.  
  
"Peace," Ardeth agreed, "yes. That I will certainly feel."  
  
Rose threw him a frown and said, "Ardeth, you weren't suppose to agree. I was joking."  
  
"I know you were. But you belong in your own time, Rose," Ardeth said with a softer tone. He reached out and brushed a few stray strands of hair from her face. She never seemed uncomfortable with his touch and even now, she stood still in front of him, her clear blue eyes trusting and confident. Yet it wasn't right for him to even think about touching her, for she belonged to another.  
  
"How is Ali?" Ardeth suddenly asked, pulling his hand away and taking a few steps back.  
  
"Asleep. He seems to be doing much better now that he's had a chance to rest some," Rose answered.  
  
"And since he's found you again," Ardeth insisted.  
  
"Yeah, maybe."  
  
"No maybe about it. He is relieved. No man should have been able to push his way through the desert with an injury like his. He is lucky to be alive. He should have stayed in his own time. He was not fit to travel across land and decades like this."  
  
"I know, but the Bay men have this funny trait. Its called stubbornness," Rose said with a small laugh.  
  
Ardeth laughed too. "I know that trait well."  
  
Rose was about to joke some more, when an incredibly woozy feeling forced her to halt her laughter and reach out to grab Ardeth's arm for support.  
  
"What is wrong?" Ardeth demanded rather than asked.  
  
"I think I'm really, really hungry. I feel a bit lightheaded," she told him.  
  
"Lightheaded?" His face suddenly registered with knowledge and he inquired, "Have you told Ali yet about Hammad's revelation?"  
  
Rose jerked her eyes to Ardeth's and she looked surprised. Apparently she had said nothing to Ali and it seemed to Ardeth that she was just now remembering what Hammad had professed.  
  
"No, I haven't," she said, with a voice that sounded forced to remain calm. "I completely forgot. But now that you mention it.what if he's unhappy?"  
  
Rose gripped the sleeve of his shirt tightly, and Ardeth both cursed and praised the fact that she was so affectionate toward him.  
  
"Unhappy? Why would you say that?" Ardeth asked.  
  
"Because we've been through so much. Ali doesn't need this news too."  
  
"Ali doesn't need what news, Rose?" Ali's voice questioned from the doorway.  
  
Ardeth felt Rose's grip on his arm tighten at the interruption and he was positive her face paled several shades. But she recovered quickly from the startle and immediately rushed to Ali's side as he held onto the door for support, obviously not ready to be traipsing about.  
  
"Ali, what are you doing out of bed?" Rose demanded of him in that tone only a wife or girlfriend could produce and get away with using on a man as strong as Ali.  
  
"I was looking for you," he said. "It worried me when I woke up and didn't see you."  
  
"Thought I'd been kidnapped again or something?" she inquired with a smile.  
  
"Something like that," he told her.  
  
Suddenly Ardeth cleared his throat and announced, "Well, let me show you to the kitchen, Rose, and I will be on my way."  
  
Ardeth began to move forward, hoping to escape through the door and down the hall but Ali reached out and grasped his arm as he tried to pass. Though the man was weak and tired, his grip was still strong.  
  
"Please, grandfather, I want to talk with you," Ali said and his words sounded more like a plea than a request.  
  
Ardeth halted and stared at Ali's face for a long, quiet moment. Then, when Ali said, once again in that same pleading tone, "It has been so long since I have seen you. I was very young when you left this world and I have so much to ask you."  
  
That feeling of pride was again overwhelming Ardeth and though he wished to fight it, he could not. This boy, this man, he corrected, was his future flesh and blood and he could no longer avoid him.  
  
With a slight nod of his head, Ardeth said, "All right. But first, we should get Rose some food. She missed dinner."  
  
With his words, Ali released him and Ardeth led the way down the hall to the kitchen.  
  
It was a large kitchen and as modern as could be for Egypt in the 1930s. Rose insisted Ali sit at the kitchen table and just as she was poised to assist Ardeth, he demanded she sit in turn. She obeyed and Ardeth gathered her a makeshift dinner.  
  
"Have you eaten, Ardeth?" Rose questioned when he set a plate of fruit, cheese and bread down in front of her. It was left over from the party and as he turned to fetch her a drink he shook his head in the negative.  
  
"You should eat too," she added.  
  
"I am not hungry," Ardeth told her as he set a glass of chilled tea in front of her.  
  
"You should be. We were out all afternoon and evening." Then Rose turned and looked at Ali. "Ardeth showed me this wonderful marketplace. And I saw the pyramids in the distance. How I'd love to see them up-close."  
  
Ali gave her a small smile and declared, "It sounds to me like you're having too much fun in 1930 to ever want to return home."  
  
"Don't be silly," she returned. "I know I'll miss movies and television soon enough."  
  
"And was that what you and Ardeth were discussing when I happened upon you in that storage room?" he asked pointedly.  
  
He stared at her hard for a long moment, then turned his eyes to Ardeth. Ardeth met the challenge, but gave nothing away.  
  
"Would someone care to enlighten me?" Ali finally asked.  
  
"It is nothing to worry about," Ardeth then spoke up. "Is that not correct, Rose?"  
  
Rose turned her eyes to her food and fiddled with a piece of cheese. "Yeah, sure. I guess."  
  
"What is it, my darling?" Ali asked her tenderly as his hand came down upon hers, halting her fidgeting and supporting her with just his touch.  
  
Rose lifted her eyes to his and knew then she could tell him anything and he would understand. So, ever so hesitantly, she covered his hand with her other and began, "Hammad had a revelation."  
  
"Hammad is here?" Ali asked, excitedly.  
  
Rose nodded. "Yes, but he is just a boy. A very interesting little boy."  
  
Ali let out a laugh and Rose could see the toll it took on him with that exertion by the tiredness that reentered his visage.  
  
"A boy?" he said incredulously. "I do not believe it!" Then, he took a deep breath and winced. The effort had drained him.  
  
"Believe it. I'm sure he's been asleep the entire night, but I'll bet he'll find you in the morning," Rose told him.  
  
Ali looked thoughtful for a long moment, then asked, "Tell me, what did this boy reveal to you?"  
  
The moment of courage she'd possessed had already passed and she looked over at Ardeth to see if he would spill the news for her. Yet since Ali's arrival, Ardeth had not been himself and when his gaze finally collided with hers, he pushed away from the counter he was leaning against and declared, "Perhaps I should leave you two alone."  
  
"No, stay," Ali insisted. "There should be no secrets between family."  
  
Ardeth's eyes narrowed and Rose was certain the man was angry. Or was it more conspiracy than anger? Rose was positive in that moment that Ardeth was keeping something back, something that was very important.  
  
"Besides," Ali added, "it would appear as if you already know this little secret Rose has yet to reveal to me."  
  
"Yes, he does know, because I already told him. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you first, Ali, but you weren't here," Rose said with a shake in her voice. "See, Hammad insists something has already happened and I won't be sure myself for a little while longer but."  
  
When she paused, Ali urged her on by saying, "If Hammad says it is true, I'm certain it is. He is always correct in his predictions."  
  
"That's what Ardeth insists as well," Rose revealed with a sigh. "So I hope you won't mind that Hammad says I am already pregnant with your son."  
  
****  
  
Certainly, Ali was still suffering the effects of exhaustion and infection, for Rose's words couldn't be true. Had he heard her correctly? Was she already with child? He stared at her for a long moment, and that moment's hesitation while he was still stunned had been a mistake, for Rose immediately paled and jumped to her feet.  
  
"Don't tell me you're upset?" she shot out before Ali could even utter a word.  
  
"I'm." he started to say, just as Rose placed a hand on her forehead and began to sway.  
  
As Ali realized she was about to faint, he reached for her at the same time as Ardeth. Both men grabbed her and then helped her to her seat.  
  
"Rose, darling," they both began at the exact same time.  
  
Ardeth's words halted first and he threw Ali an apologetic look and took his hands from Rose's shoulders and stepped back.  
  
Something suddenly clicked in Ali's mind at that precise moment. He realized why his grandfather had been avoiding him so well this night and that was because of Rose. His hands still on Rose, Ali stared at Ardeth for a long moment and almost started laughing, only because the revelation was so incredibly shocking. Not only had Ali just been told that his love was going to have his child, he had also discovered the long-lived mystery of why Ardeth had never married until much later in life. Now he knew.it was because of Rose!  
  
Though Rose had just about fainted, Ali still could not take his eyes off his grandfather. There was no malice in his stare, only wonder, curiosity and shock. It was strange how life worked, and as the knowledge sunk in more, Ali began to feel sympathetic. He hurt, suddenly, realizing that his grandfather's self-imposed single life for the next fifteen years will be because of Rose. And though he felt nothing but love for Ardeth and wanted to tell him all of the future, he didn't want to reveal his sympathy for a man like Ardeth would only be angered by such feelings.  
  
Instead, he continued to stare, until Ardeth turned and briskly walked out of the room.  
  
"Ali," Rose said, practically pleading. "Honey, are you angry?'  
  
Shaking the revelations out of his head, and reaching for her face he answered quickly, "No, of course not. How on earth could I be angry when the woman I adore is going to have my child, the future chief of the Medjai?"  
  
Looking at him with sad eyes, Rose argued, "But you didn't answer me right away. You looked like you were about to pass out."  
  
"I was shocked. Nothing more. And I am not the one who almost fainted, you did." He nodded toward the plate of food in front of her. "You need to eat, my love." He then brushed her hair from her face. "And, get some rest."  
  
She nodded and as he studied the exhaustion on her face, he asked, "Why did you think I was going to be upset about this child? Are you?"  
  
Vigorously, Rose shook her head. She leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth.  
  
"No, not at all. I want nothing more than to start a family with you, Ali. I was just shocked at the timing. And with all that we've gone through these past few weeks, I just didn't want to heap anymore on you. That's all. But when Hammad first told me the other day, all I could think of was that I had to get back to you because I couldn't have this child without you," she explained.  
  
"Well, I am here now and you will have this child with me either here or in 2001. And to me, it doesn't matter where it happens, just that we're with one another," Ali told her sweetly.  
  
Rose smiled widely at him then fell into his embrace. He held her like he hadn't seen her in years and reveled in the glorious news he had just received.  
  
****  
  
Ardeth stood in the dimly lit room, knowing he should get something to eat and lie down for what remained of the night, but unwilling to do so. His emotions had been stretched too thin in every direction during the past week and he could not rest. Instead, he found himself standing in the middle of Rose's room, staring at her and Ali, asleep in the bed.  
  
Why he tormented himself so with such a sight was beyond his grasp, but he had been drawn here like a moth to a flame. He was curious about his future offspring and worried about Rose. She had endured more than any woman should in the past few weeks and now that Hammad's prophecy about his great-grandson had been revealed, he found himself anxious over Rose's health and state of mind.  
  
Of course, she was with her love and Ardeth had no cause to worry. As he watched her, she slept quite soundly, unlike the other times he'd watched her sleep when they'd been traveling through the desert. During those nights on their quest, she'd tossed and turned and mumbled anxious words in her slumber and many a time Ardeth had awoken, fearing the worst, but realizing it was only her angst that was causing her restless sleep. Her sleep this morning with Ali, however, was anything but tormented, and Ardeth was afraid any rest he attempted would be tormented with thoughts of her instead.  
  
He shifted his gaze away from her angelic face and studied the man holding her securely. Ali certain carried his genes. They were twins, physically, and in the few times Ardeth had spoken with Ali, he had tried to see if they were alike mentally and spiritually as well. There was a toughness to Ali, but it was well hidden and refined. And the man did not easily back down from a challenge, as Ardeth had discovered on the occasion he had attempted to challenge him subtly. But there was a closeness the man obviously felt towards him and Ardeth felt uncomfortable with that. He did not know this man yet. How was he supposed to feel that same familiarity when his time with his grandson had not yet come in the future? How was he to relate when he was in such a disadvantageous position? And just how was he supposed to hand Rose back over to the man without flinching, when every fiber of his being hurt when he realized he would never hold her, never kiss her and never get to spend that lifetime with her that he had suddenly discovered he wanted?  
  
It was a quandary his heart was creating for his mind, and he wished he could reason away his feelings as easily as he reasoned away every other problem he ran across.  
  
He sighed quietly and was about ready to turn back for the door, when Ali's eyes opened and landed squarely on his face. There was no start in the man's eyes and his mouth instantly formed a smile.  
  
"Grandfather," he said with a whisper.  
  
"I should leave," Ardeth stated quickly, again feeling uncomfortable with the title Ali used and the familiarity with which he looked upon him.  
  
"No," Ali insisted and carefully slid away from Rose and out of bed.  
  
Ardeth halted and waited while the man dressed quickly in his pants. They were a strange garment made of heavy fabric and equipped with pockets in the front, back and on the leg. Then Ardeth's eyes moved to the heavy boots on the floor next to the bed and again wondered just how different this future that Ali lived in was.  
  
"I've been wanting to talk to you since I arrived," Ali said as he moved closer.  
  
"But you have been unwell. In fact, you should rest. You are still weary," Ardeth insisted.  
  
Ali waved his words off with a casual hand. "No, I'm fine. I'm still a bit weak, but I'll be fine." Then Ali's eyes traveled over Ardeth for a long time and he said, "You don't know how good it is to see you again, grandfather." Then he smiled widely and suddenly looked more like a boy than the man he was.  
  
Ardeth shuttered his gaze away and turned to walk toward the window. It was difficult to understand the awe Ali was showing and he again felt uneasy in his situation.  
  
"I've made you feel uncomfortable," Ali suddenly said, obviously reading Ardeth's body language. "I'm sorry. I suppose 'grandfather' isn't exactly an appropriate title seeing how we're both about the same age right now."  
  
Ardeth glanced back at him and said, "Yes, it would seem we are close in age."  
  
Ali walked closer and added humorously, "Yet the last time I saw you, I was but a boy and you were a very old man. I suppose I still see you through the eyes of a child."  
  
Ardeth nodded and upon seeing his reply, Ali said quickly, "We were very close, you know. We'd spend hours together everyday while father was off fulfilling his Medjai duties. You lived until the ripe old age of eighty- five, and though I was so appreciative of the time we had together, I have always wished for more."  
  
"And now, you have more time," Ardeth drawled with irony.  
  
"Yes, I suppose I do. But you do not know me, and that is hard to accept. I see the wariness in your eyes, Ardeth, and I wish it were not there." Ali was bold and so were his words. Ardeth could appreciate that.  
  
"I am sorry if that is what you see," he replied, "but I know no other way to act. You have me at a disadvantage."  
  
"I would never purposely put you there," Ali argued.  
  
"Perhaps not, but that is how things stand. You know everything of me and my future, and I know so very little of you."  
  
Ali wrinkled his brow with confusion and pointed to his chest. "You know little of me? Do I not bear the marks of our tribe?" He pulled the Medjai necklace from his pocket and held it up. Then reached out and grabbed Ardeth's matching necklace in his hand. "Do I not wear the symbols of honor and strength and leadership same as you?"  
  
Ardeth moved his hand to cover Ali's and tear it away from his necklace, but the man did not let go.  
  
"And," Ali continued, "do I not bear your last name passed down by our ancestors and do I not have your blood coursing through my veins? And do I not love the same woman as you? How can you say you know little of me? You know everything about me. I am part of you."  
  
Upon hearing Ali's revelation about Rose, Ardeth stood, dumb struck, his hand covering Ali's and unable to move. In fact, he was almost unable to breathe for he wondered how Ali could have sensed his feelings for Rose when he had tried so hard to conceal them from everyone.  
  
"You know?" Ardeth finally questioned slowly. "You know about Rose?"  
  
Ali nodded his head and explained, "You never married, Ardeth, until you were forty-five. Nearly fifteen years from now. That's how long it took you to get over Rose."  
  
"Fifteen years? That is insane," he said, trying to deny the truth. "I have known her but a week."  
  
Ali threw Ardeth a crooked grin and moved his other hand to the Ardeth's shoulder. "What can I say.she has a way about her. She's irresistible."  
  
Ali squeezed his shoulder and Ardeth felt comforting in that grip, not revenge.  
  
"I did not mean." Ardeth began, only to hear Ali interrupt him to say, "I know."  
  
"And you do not.?" Ardeth started again and Ali again interrupted with, "No, of course not."  
  
They had just completed a conversation without actually saying anything and when both men realized they could practically read each other's minds, they both laughed.  
  
"Ardeth, you have my complete trust," Ali said once they were both quiet again. Then he pulled his hand from Ardeth's and placed both his hands on Ardeth's face. "You are the man who made me what I am. I owe you everything. And I can't fault you for falling in love with Rose. In fact, I could fault no man for that."  
  
It was the first time another man besides his father had touched him with such affection and he felt no awkwardness. In fact, he suddenly began to feel a burning kinship, a love that one only felt for their family. And that growing feeling prompted him to say honestly, "I know Rose is destined for you. She and I have been nothing but friends and sometimes adversaries since she has arrived and I will cherish that. But that is all it will ever be, Ali, you have my word."  
  
"You never even had to give me your word, Ardeth, because I would never doubt you. You are true to the ways of the Medjai and to our history. You are the one who will lead us into the modern world and you are the one who will face the most difficult of challenges. And you will prevail at every turn. Remember that. When you think things are hopeless, remember that you will prevail. It is already written into the fabric of the future," Ali said seriously, his eyes determined and focused, his voice unwavering.  
  
Ardeth gave a slight nod and as soon as he acknowledged his words, Ali moved to embrace him. For a moment Ardeth stood stunned, then again feeling that intense familial bond, he returned the embraced. It lasted but a moment, as is the case with all men showing affection, and when they pulled back, Ardeth smiled and said, "I am beginning to feel quite proud of the man you are. And I hope it is some of my doing that you turned out as wise as you are."  
  
"It is quite a bit of your doing," Ali returned.  
  
"Good," Ardeth said, then slapped Ali on his uninjured shoulder. "Now, you will have to make me a few promises, Ali. I will be away for a few days and you need to watch over Rose, her brother and Hammad. You will be able to rest here while I am away and when I return, we will get you home."  
  
"Where are you going?" Ali questioned.  
  
"To find something." Ardeth threw one quick look in Rose's direction, smiled and then said to Ali, "Please tell her I will return and have not abandoned you all here in 1930."  
  
Ali gave a small chuckle and answered, "Of course, I'll tell her." Then he quickly asked, "But Ardeth, shouldn't I go with you? Are you going to do something dangerous?"  
  
Ardeth shook his head vehemently. "No, you must stay here. You are not well and Rose should not be separated from you again. You two have spent enough time apart. I will be fine and I will bring Rashid with me. Good- bye, my grandson."  
  
Ali smiled with much pride and Ardeth returned the expression. Then he was gone.  
  
****  
  
It was a week before Ardeth returned. Ali had worried the entire time and so had Rose. When she'd discovered Ardeth's absence, she'd gone pale and promptly explained to Ali that if anything happened to Ardeth, Ali's future would be no longer. Ali had simply smiled at her reassuringly and said with his trademark Bay arrogance that nothing would happen to Ardeth because he could take care of himself.  
  
Still it was Ali who did not heed his own words and lay awake each night hoping to hear the sounds of his grandfather's steps on the stairs announcing his return.  
  
As for Tony and Hammad, Ali spent the time he wasn't resting or with Rose getting to know Tony better and finding a wonderful friend in the man. As for the boy-Hammad, Ardeth still couldn't believe he was seeing the wise elder as a precocious boy. And though Hammad's stature was that of a child, even in this young age, his maturity was easy to see. The boy had a gift of wisdom and there were times when he literally stunned Ali with his revelations.  
  
"Ardeth will return tonight, Ali, you will see," the boy had insisted. "And true to his word, he will get you and Rose home where you belong."  
  
Ali had hoped the boy was right, but had a dreadful feeling he was wrong. When he went to sleep that night, he prayed he saw his grandfather alive and well by morning.  
  
He of course, never mentioned his fears to Rose. She harbored enough of her own and she'd been put through enough turmoil these past few weeks thanks to Victor and Oscar Mann. Ali was glad both men were dead-he felt no guilt for having taken Victor's life or for Ardeth having taken Oscar's. Ali wasn't a man who enjoyed killing, yet when the necessity arose, he did so without flinching. He knew his grandfather was the same type of soul so when Ali awoke, startled by the feel of a nearby presence, and laid eyes on Ardeth with a drained look on his face, Ali realized the man had endured many hardships, perhaps even killed, on his quest for the Staff of the Sun.  
  
"Ardeth," Ali had said quickly as he sat up in bed and threw the covers to the side and placed his feet on the cool hardwood floor. He met Ardeth at the door and placed his hands on his shoulders. "Ardeth, are you all right?"  
  
"I am fine," Ardeth insisted, his voice weary, his eyes tired. "It has been a long week, my son."  
  
"Come, sit down and I will get you some food and drink," Ali said, escorting him to a wingback chair that sat in the room next to a lamp and table.  
  
Ardeth followed without protest and was just about to sit in the chair, when Rose awoke. He allowed his eyes to drink her in for a long moment wearing nothing but the borrowed slip-top, her legs bare. After only a moment of filling his selfish desire, he turned to Ali and inquired, "She has been well?"  
  
"Yes. She's fine," Ali assured him.  
  
It was then that Rose pushed her tousled hair out of her eyes and landed her gaze upon Ardeth. She gave a squeal of delight, then jumped from the bed and promptly threw her arms around his neck.  
  
"Thank goodness you're all right, Ardeth," she said, her face buried in his hair, her arms holding him tightly. Then she pulled away a few inches and scolded, "You shouldn't have left without telling me. I was worried sick."  
  
Conscious of the fact that Rose was wearing too little and that he had been in dirt and grime for a week, Ardeth disengaged her arms from his neck, held her hands in his with a more brotherly quality and insisted, "I am a warrior, Rose. I can take care of myself."  
  
Ali chuckled from behind and placed a hand on Rose's shoulder. His grandson was so easy with Rose, so comfortable. He envied that closeness the two shared, yet was thankful they had each other at the same time. His trek to the Valley of the Kings, then up to Alexandria and then back down the Nile looking for the holder of the Staff of the Sun had been arduous, and he'd worried about Rose the entire route. Indeed, the relic had been looted and Ardeth was only thankful that the holder had obviously known little about its true purpose, for it was merely sitting in his collection of antiques. Of course, the man had been a rich European, an Englishman with numbers of guards around his estate, and with only Rashid as backup, the conquest had been hard fought. Then, when the man had held Ardeth at gunpoint and refused to relinquish the staff, Ardeth had had little choice in his actions. The man and all his guards now lay dead within the confines of the estate.  
  
"I suppose you are," she finally said and then took a moment to look him over with critical eyes. When she saw the cuts on his hands, the bruises on his face and the gash on his shoulder, she frowned and added, "But I'm taking care of you now. Look at you, you're a mess."  
  
She let go of his hands, turned on a heel and said over her shoulder, "I'm going to draw you a hot bath and clean all your cuts while Ali feeds you. And don't argue Ardeth."  
  
He held up his hands in surrender and laughed once she had disappeared into the bathroom.  
  
"Better me than you, huh?" Ali cracked. "I'll have to put of with that for the rest of my life."  
  
Ardeth chuckled for Ali's light humor about Ardeth's feelings for Rose were a relief.  
  
"Yes, my life will be much more peaceful," Ardeth said back with the same jest, and then sat in the offered chair and relayed to Ali all that had transpired in the course of his week.  
  
****  
  
They were only one day from leaving. A few hours and Rose would be back in her own time with technology and pizza and all the movies she could watch. She should be ecstatic, yet she wasn't. Tony couldn't stop talking about getting back, although he didn't mention going back home to Chicago. She wondered what he would do and how he would face father and she finally inquired that of him as she sat next to him around the small campfire they had built.  
  
They were alone. Rashid was sitting a few yards away in his customary solitude, a warrior to the bone, and cleaning his Springfield rifle and Hammad was exploring an outcropping of rocks nearby, chasing lizards as many young boys do. Ali and Ardeth were off, as usual, walking and talking and Rose hadn't missed the intense bond the two had forged. They were like brothers more than anything, twins even, and as she contemplated Ali being separated from his beloved grandfather again, it tore at her soul and that was why she was so reluctant to leave.  
  
"Tony, what are you going to do when we get back?" Rose questioned him as she hugged her knees to her and placed her chin upon them.  
  
"I don't know," he finally answered. "But I'm not going home. Father can sit around wondering for the rest of his life what happened to Vic and I. Besides, he always did like Victor better. There's no reason for me to go home. I mean, what do I have to go home to anyhow? The family business?" He laughed then. "Heck, I don't want any part of that. I think maybe I'll travel through Europe for a while or maybe even hang out with my sister. I've always wanted to live in a real old-fashioned village."  
  
Rose smiled and said, "I'd love it if you stayed. I've missed you so much these past few years, Tony. How I had wished you had come with me when I ran. But I knew you couldn't. Not then. You weren't ready to leave everything and everyone behind like I was."  
  
"I wish I had been. I wasted those five years you were gone, Rosa. I didn't do much with my life after you left. I just went along with everything and kept my eyes on Victor and father. That wasn't much of a life." He paused and looked around the desert scenery that surrounded them. "This is peaceful and I like Ali. I think I just might stay after all."  
  
"Great," Rose said back and quickly moved in front of her brother and hugged him.  
  
Ali sat down next to them at that moment and inquired, "What's the occasion?"  
  
Rose pulled away from Tony and announced, "Tony's planning on remaining in Egypt with us, Ali. Is that all right?"  
  
Ali smiled easily and looped an arm around Rose's shoulders. His injury had begun to heal and his strength was obviously returning. Rose could feel it in his embrace now.  
  
"Of course it's all right. I'd love to have Tony stay. Maybe he could help keep you in line," Ali stated with humor.  
  
Rose playfully pushed his arm off her shoulders. "Ha ha, very funny." Then she sobered and glanced around the camp. "Where's Ardeth?"  
  
Ali gave a heavy sigh and threw a thumb over his shoulder. "Back there a ways."  
  
"Why do you say it with such a heavy heart, honey?" Rose inquired.  
  
Ali said nothing, but when his eyes landed on Tony, Rose watched as her brother stood and bowed out saying, "I think I'll go help Hammad catch that lizard."  
  
It was obvious Ali had precipitated that exit, so Rose turned to look Ali in the eye and ask, "Ali, what's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing's wrong," he insisted. "Its just that.well, I told Ardeth the news about father being assassinated. He's thinking about it now and the ramifications that news will have for the future."  
  
"But certainly that must already be written somewhere in one of those nifty books you all have hidden out at the Cave of Prophecies?" Rose asked.  
  
"No, its not. And Ardeth just told me that I was never supposed to come back in time. At least, he had never read or heard of it. He knew you were coming, or at least that was written in our history and predictions."  
  
"I'm sure he'd like to have that part erased from their chronicles," Rose drawled sarcastically remembering the all the headaches she'd caused Ardeth over the past few weeks.  
  
"No, I know that's not the case," Ali told her. "In fact, I think Ardeth sometimes wishes the future was written differently when it comes to you."  
  
"What does that mean, Ali?" Rose questioned.  
  
He reached out and placed a warm hand on her face. Even now just his touch gave her chills. She loved this man with all her heart and if anything tore him away from her, she'd never be a whole woman again.  
  
"It means, my grandfather will not marry for another fifteen years-until after World War II. And the reason he never gets married until he's over forty-five years old, is because of you, my darling."  
  
"No," Rose immediately spat out.  
  
"Yes. It's true. I believe he is not only contemplating the future and my father, but also thinking about his life without the woman he's fallen in love with," Ali announced.  
  
Rose laughed at first, for it sounded completely absurd to her. Of course Ardeth and she had formed a close bond over the past few weeks, but surely the man harbored nothing deeper for her. But when Ali never cracked a smile, when he continued to look at her with an anxious expression that said he was worried about Ardeth, Rose came to accept the news.  
  
"Ali, I never did anything to." she began to insist, when his finger came down upon her lips, halting her words.  
  
"Of course you didn't do anything to encourage his feelings Rose, aside from being your beautiful, fun-loving, intelligent and brave self. You have changed the Medjai forever with your presence and claimed my grandfather's heart as well. I am not angry or upset and I understand it is just the way of the universe. And, I know with all my being that I am the man you love. The only man you love. Do not think I doubted your love for an instant, or I would not have walked half-way across Egypt to find you."  
  
Rose smiled at him, her love showing in every expression, and threw her arms around his neck. She kissed him for a long, sensuous moment, until Ali pulled away, his breath coming too quickly and his brown eyes filled with desire.  
  
"Enough of that, my love. We'll have plenty of time for passion when we get back and get married," Ali said to her, touching her face sweetly, and then tugging her onto his lap where he hugged her to him and drank in the smell and feel of her.  
  
"And I can't wait until I'm your wife and you're my husband, Ali," Rose told him, resting easily in his arms. "I promise, I'll never doubt you again. I'll never run from you in anger and always trust that what you're doing is for the best. I'll be the wife of the Medjai chief and love every moment of it." She halted her words and pulled her head from his shoulder to look him in the eye. "Well, I don't think I'll enjoy learning that ancient Arabic Ardeth said I'd have to learn to teach to our children, but I'll still love being your wife."  
  
Ali chuckled and held her tightly again. His Rose may be a difficult woman at times, but she was his and he was hers and that's how history intended.  
  
****  
  
The next afternoon, the group stood on the platform in the Fortress of Aten standing quietly. The "control panel" had been double-checked and was prepared to send Ali, Tony and Rose back to the same day in time in 2001 from which they had come. The parting should have been filled with joy, since their lives could resume their normal courses, yet there was an atmosphere of sadness that everyone felt.  
  
"You will promise to destroy the Staff of the Sun once I leave, won't you, Ardeth?" Ali asked as he stood in front of his grandfather.  
  
"You know I cannot, Ali. I must send it to the museum in London, the one my friends are curators of for safe keeping. I cannot change the course of events that brought Rose to us or that brought those evil men back here in time. That is just the way things are. You understand that too."  
  
Ali nodded. Yes, he did understand it and knew that was how history had to play out. Yet he had been thinking selfishly about his father, thinking that if Ardeth destroyed the Staff of the Sun, his father would not have to suffer such an early death.  
  
"Then perhaps we should send you all home now," Ardeth suggested, holding the Staff of the Staff of the Sun toward Ali for insertion into the hole that would trigger the fortress's power.  
  
Ali looked regretful and did not take the offered staff. Instead, he placed his hands on Ardeth's face and looked at him earnestly.  
  
"I am not ready to leave, grandfather. I will never see you again and it tears at my heart," Ali said with emotion.  
  
Ardeth smiled gently, placed a hand on Ali's shoulder and insisted, "I know that I am lucky in that I will be meeting you again as a child, my son, and I understand the anguish you feel right now. You know I do."  
  
"Yes, you know," Ali said, realizing the feelings of longing Ardeth would experience for the next several years over Rose.  
  
"I hate to say good-bye to you, Ardeth," Ali said.  
  
"You must. You have your time to live in and I have mine. And though I will miss you terribly, for you are not only my flesh and blood but also my dear friend, I have no choice but to send you back. The future of the Medjai lives on in you and Rose and that is bigger than any of us. Our duty is to the desert first."  
  
"It is," Ali agreed, then hugged his grandfather fiercely for a long moment and reluctantly stepped back.  
  
Ardeth then shook hands with Tony and then moved to Rose. He glanced down at her with a tender expression Ali had never seen his grandfather express before. With much control, the man reached out and touched Rose's cheek.  
  
"Farewell, Rose," Ardeth said diplomatically. "May you take care of my grandson and all my great grandchildren."  
  
"You know I will," she told him.  
  
He gave her a small smile and nodded. "The future of the Medjai is in good hands with you, Rose. And you have brought much to the Medjai of this time as well. You are an amazing woman."  
  
"Thanks," she returned, then was about to simply say good-bye herself, when she remembered Ali's words. Unable to leave the man with a simple good-bye after all they had been through together and after finding out the way he felt about her, Rose wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him for a long moment. Ardeth returned the embrace without prompting and squeezed her tight. And when she kissed him lightly on the lips, he didn't pull away.  
  
"You're a good man, Ardeth Bay," Rose whispered to him in his ear after she'd bestowed the most tender of kisses upon him. "Take care of yourself and take care of my Ali when you meet him in the future. Teach him well."  
  
"I will," he promised.  
  
She was about to pull away when she realized she had to say one more thing. "And Ardeth, you will love another, I am certain."  
  
When she pulled back and looked him in the eyes, she saw they were filled with a host of emotions. The man did love her and she was sorry he would feel such anguish over her. Yet he was strong and he was brave and he would endure like a warrior and find his way without stumbling. She gave him one last smile, then hugged Hammad saying, "You, I'll see in the future, wise old man," and turned to regain her position next to Ali.  
  
With little ceremony the staff was placed in the middle of the platform, the chamber filled with intense pressure, the light appeared and then they were gone.  
  
****  
  
The future had not changed so drastically, Ali thought, as he stood next to his new bride, smiling with intense pride and joy. The news of her pregnancy had been confirmed by the doctor, their wedding had just gone off without a hitch, Rose was ecstatic and Ali's father was still alive. That was the only change his returning to 1930 had caused and he had left that decision up to Ardeth.  
  
He did, however, miss Ardeth terribly. Having known the young Ardeth had been a thrill Ali would never forget and neither would Rose. But they had promised each other upon their return that they would not linger over missing his presence and simply move on with their lives, thankful for the time they had been given with such a wonderful man.  
  
As for having Aarif back, Ali couldn't explain the intense feelings that caused. His father had been like every other Bay chief in that he was brave and handsome and strong. Yet Ali had missed his guidance, his mentoring and though Aarif was still relatively young at fifty-five years old, he was officially handing the title of chief of the Medjai over to Ali saying it was time he retired after that attempted assassination staged by Oscar Mann's group.  
  
As for the rest of the village, Hammad was still old and wise, his mother was as happy as he'd seen and Devraj and Yasmeen were planning their own nuptials. He looked around at the people celebrating his marriage, hugged Rose tightly and sighed with contentment. This is how the future was supposed to be.  
  
The End 


End file.
